Ru-lah took in the bizarre surroundings. It had been daytime when they had been at the bar. Now it was the middle of the night, all by stepping through a door! She and Trickster walked along a well marked path overgrown with weeds. Massive, luminescent mushrooms lined the walkway. Strange trees grew out of some of the mushrooms, and poisonous colored vines wrapped themselves like pythons around many of the strange fungi.

“It smells like decay,” Trickster complained, stuffing a piece of paper into his back pocket. “And something way too sweet, if you know what I mean.”

“Better than fighting an entire garrison,” Ru-lah said, glancing over her shoulder. “Which does make me wonder why no one is following us.”

“Maybe it’s like in a video game, you pass through a level and then the enemies stop following you,” Trickster suggested.

“But that is not how D&D works!”

“And since when did D&D start off with the video game opening,? Or with a strange grey bubble swallowing you?” The thief chuckled. “Man, that is weird!”

Ru-lah gave him a quizzical look. “What is?”

He answered simply, “Remembering that two lives exist in one body.”

The half orc, half elf paladin thought about that statement. It was true, it was really strange to have two people technically inside one body. Though she thought they were more closely connected than Trickster believed.

She was Naomi. A teenage African American girl who wanted a sweet mohawk like this. Who was a true blue nerd, and was completely unabashed about it. But she was also Ru-lah. A paladin of the holy order of Sareenotch. Sareenotch was an organization that worked towards coaxing out evil in order to summon greater good and heroes to help purify the world. They were often looked down on for doing very unorthodox rituals and first bringing about greater evils.

Her parents, an orc scout and an exiled elf servant, had left Ru-lah with a letter and some jewelry at a Sareenotch monastery. The orc band had not wanted the young family, there was no place for them among the elves, and various politics had driven her parents to desperation. They left Ru-lah with one of the few groups in the land that was not prejudice and would give their members a fair amount of personal freedom. It gave Ru-lah a chance to become her own woman.

And, well… Becoming a paladin and becoming her own woman had led her out here. Now she had fallen in with Trcikster on their misadventure to wherever it was they were going. The only clue they had to go off of was the medallion they got in a loot bag that belonged to a drow wizard from an adventuring gang called the Motley Lot.

What does it all mean, she wondered. Maybe the answers are at the end of the road here.

“How long do you think it will take to get to this so-called witch,” Trickster asked.

As if in answer to his question, there was a sudden bend in the road that opened up on a strange house. It was a massive, hollowed-out mushroom. It had three different chimneys coming out the top of the blue and purple roof, each belching a different colored, glittering smoke. Multiple, strange trees grew out of the mushroom’s shaft, a single slim door stood open. Light stabbed into the darkness.

“It’s a Smurf house,” Trickster deadpanned.

This earned him a shoulder slug from Ru-lah. Though, she secretly agreed with him. Her eyes narrowed as a shadowy figure stepped into the light.

“Welcome travelers, I have been expecting you.”

The witch was a curvy creature with green skin and long, blood red hair. She was had a very attractive face, and her figure was accentuated with a revealing, bejeweled dress. She had a belt of different animal skulls, and each finger flashed with a gaudy, oversized ring. Her eyes were violet and piercing.

Trickster whistled, earning him another slug.

“You’ve been waiting for us,” Ru-lah asked skeptically.

“Yes,” the witch purred. “Please, come into my home, and we shall talk. There is so much to say. But where are conversation turns, and where it ends up depends entirely on you two.”

Ru-lah slapped Trickster’s butt and gave him a meaningful look. His face split into a wide smile, and he followed her into the mushroom house. It smelled really strange inside. There were too many foreign spices and perfumes wafting about in the air.

She swept the room with her eyes and took in the cluttered area. Small tables with all kind of potions, weavings, and projects took up most of the circular room. Three chimneys were full of fire and large cauldrons. In the center of the room was a smaller black cauldron sitting in a high bed of glowing coals. Ru-lah noticed that o steam rose from the cauldron, and wondered if anything was in there.

There was a circular staircase to the back the crept up the wall and to the mushroom’s top. Ru-lah guessed that up there was where the witch slept. Weird red and orange crystals stuck out of the walls and ceiling, and they glowed faintly, adding to the strange color within the house. The light that had pierced the darkness had been of a yellowish color. Ru-lah spotted many ordinary candles all over the tables and on the floor.

When had the witch found the time to light them all?

Magic, of course.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ru-lah saw Trickster covertly inspecting different tables and prodding their contents. His eyes were alight with mischief. She wondered if he had already pocketed anything for the witch.

“Please leave my things be. I doubt any of them will matter much to you at the present,” the witch said sweetly. “They may serve a future need you have. But then again, that entirely depends on our conversations.”

“And what exactly are these conversations supposed to be,” Ru-lah asked suspiciously.

“I make deals, my dear paladin,” the witch replied. “Indeed, I have made some deals already with others of your order. But I sense that your current mission is not entirely in line with Sareenotch’s overall aims.”

With a wave of her hand she continued, “In any case, that is neither here nor there at the moment. I know you’ve chosen to come and see me. Please, take a seat, and we’ll get better acquainted.”

As she spoke, two spindly, but cushioned seats rose up through the floor, like stick emerging from a deep pong. She shared a quick glance with her thief companion, and they gingerly took their seats across from the witch.

“Thank you,” the witch smiled. “I believe introductions are in order.”

With two fingers she gestured first to Trickster, who immediately said, “My name is Klarenz, Son of Dead End. I never knew my family, but I was raised on the streets. They call me Trickster for the way I stole and swindled to survive and rise through the ranks of the Black Blades.”

“Fascinating, but I suppose there is more to you than just that. How very interesting,” the witch mused. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Klarenz.”

Her violet eyes snapped to Ru-lah and as she repeated the gesture. Ru-lah found herself suddenly speaking, incapable of stopping herself.

“My name is Ru-lah Norkvak Halenstol Sareenotch of the Iron Ward Monastery. I am a third level paladin of the sacred order.”

“Your name bespeaks your dual orc and elfish heritage,” the witch surmised. “But just like Klarenz, that is not all who you are. At least you are more open about this side of your identity than he. Nevertheless, you are still fascinating.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Ru-lah snarled and said, “There was no need to magic the information out of us! You could have asked!”

“Oh, but I had every need. People always edit their words as they speak to hide a piece of themselves. Even those who claim that they speak their mind at all times attempt to conceal a part of their precious soul through the word they choose. No one wants to be laid bare before others. Not even the ones they deeply love,” the witch explained, a smug expression pulling back her green face.

Ru-lah wanted to smack her for it.

“But we said so little,” Trickster protested. “Or, at least she did!”

The witch turned slightly to face him and replied, “Because she like so many paladins is stereotypically straightforward and caught up in how righteous and bland their overall quests and reasons for living are. Oh sure, she harbors a desire to find her family, but even that is as straightforward as her name. I take, Klarenz, that you had never heard her whole name until just now?”

“I’d prefer Trickster. And no, I had not,” he said.

“The she has been guarding a piece of herself. It does not take many words to reveal something is deep and dear to an individual. It just takes the right words spoken and a keen ears to fully understand another’s soul.”

Ru-lah wasn’t buying any of that, but she let it go for the time being and said, “So you managed to get out of a few words who we are. And it helped that you extracted that information with the little hand wave of yours. But what is your name, witch?”

She put real emphasis and spite into that final word. She saw Trickster flinch a little from her venom. A shadow briefly crossed over the witch’s face and she momentarily scowled. Ru-lah felt pleased for getting a rile out of her, but she supposed she would have to pay for that slight later. It wa a good thing Trickster held the key to them getting out of this situation if the need arouse.

The witch regained a friendly composure and answered, “My name, dear paladin of the third order, is Yelnir.”

Ru-lah made a mental toss of the dice right as Trickster yelped.

“You’re Yelnir? The enchantress of wishes and questions?”

“The very same,” Yelnir answered with an appreciatory smile towards the thief.

The dice landed and Ru-lah also understood and realized she had heard about this particular witch before. She was famous for seeking out heroes and villains, as well as being sought out by adventurers and beggars. She would always grant small wishes and give true answers to any question, but always at a price. It was said that one could gain a lot from Yelnir, but with each question and request, the prices became steeper.

And Yelnir always collected.

Ru-lah was now very grateful for the precautions she had taken right after they had gone through the door. But she began to fear that maybe Yelnir would catch onto what their contingency plan was. She hoped that Trickster would keep his composure and wits about him as they treated with this witch. Pulling on all her training, Ru-lah calmed herself internally and became the dictionary image of paladin serenity.

“Now, where shall we begin,” Yelnir asked. “It would appear that both of you know me, considering your actions and words. So please, tell me what you are on about?’

Trickster waved his hand, like a school boy eager to give an answer. Yelnir again smiled at him as he spoke.

“We’ve found ourselves on a very strange adventure. First, we made characters, if I remember correctly. And then we fought our way through city streets, against a ton of gangsters, ninjas, and ruffians. Then we ended up in a bar, and there we learned about some guys I’ve never heard of before, fought soldiers from the local garrison, and then ended up here. So what in all the unholy blazes of Asgeroth is going on!?”

“That is quite a tale, and it has a very dark revelation to it, I’m afraid,” Yelnir said with sudden somberness. But then her lips twitched with an eager smile. “For that knowledge, you will have to answer me true to my own question. Are you willing to make that trade?’

Trickster considered her for a moment and then bobbed his head with an eager. “That sounds fantastic!”

What is he getting at? It feels like a play, Ru-lah thought.

Yelnir leaned in closely to Trickster and nearly whispered, “You say your name is Klarenz, Son of Dead End. But that is only part of your identity. Trickster is just an alias to protect yourself. What is the other part of who you are? I can see part of it, but I do not understand it. Who are you really?”

Trickster went rigid. It was as if something had suddenly uncoiled in the pit of his stomach and was spreading throughout his body. He shook a little as he began to speak.

“M-My name is… My name is Trick. That is why I went with the name Trickster as I was creating my character. I am a junior in high school. Back on Earth. A very different place from here. Just outside Washington D.C., not that that means anything to you, I think… But I was in Miami. I was with my friend Naomi and her loser pals from homeschool. We were caught up in grey bubble or something like that and found ourselves fighting in Smash Bros.”

He paused for a moment and then nodded to himself. “Yes, that’s right. My name is Patrick Brown. My friends called me Trick because of all the pranks I used to play on others during school. I raised hell for my teachers and the faculty. I also was a torment to my parents in many ways. I thought I was just too smart. School no longer entertained me.

“So, when my mother took me to work to keep an eye on me, and I heard that there was a funky case to be solved, I decided to go and try it myself. Solving the case, I mean. I kinda dragged Naomi into it, which is how we met and got to know each other. It turned out to be kids summoning werewolves and vampires through something called a Door. But-”

“Trick,” Ru-lah snapped. “That’s enough!”

“Is it though,” Velnir hissed.

Trickster shook himself and then slumped. He wheezed, “Yes. Yes, that is enough. I remember now. Holy crap, I remember! It’s so weird.”

“What is,” Ru-lah asked urgently. “What happened to you?”

The witch regarded them both hungrily as the thief explained. “As I was talking, I saw and felt this Patrick guy. Trick. Yes, that’s right… He was me, and I was him, or…”

He bolted upwards and said, “How could I have forgotten? We are truly in a D&D game!”

“I know that,” Ru-lah said flatly.

“So did I, but it felt so real! You’re Naomi! Try to recall that!”

Ru-lah knew she was Naomi, but when she tried to access that part of her identity, all she came across was a remembrance that she was naomi. Very, very little else came to her.

“That is disturbing,” she admitted. “How could I have forgotten?”

“Enough,” Velnir snapped. “It is time for Patrick to receive his answer. Because you stopped him before he could fully tell his tale, I’m afraid that my answer will also be incomplete.”

She laid a hand on Trickster’s. He immediately clasped it as she began speaking.

“Many worlds are combining,” Venir said in a cold and low voice, which did not match the eyes looking dreamily at Trickster. Ru-lah wanted to gag. “It is the same here as it is in other places. Forces beyond our control are on the move and soon war will come to all. Here, the passions of gods clash and mix, forming a strange world. Heroes must rise to meet the coming darkness. Only those bonded by the purest of friendship and love will be able to turn back the great Beast before it is too late.

“And you will have a part to play in that, I foresee.”

Velnir did not say anymore after that. Ru-lah snorted, “Well that was very little for a lot taken from him.”

“It is what was fair due to the payment. The more you give, the more I can give you,” the witch said derisively.

“”Excellent. Well, I can put two and two together, so I already know who this band of friends is,” Ru-lah said, hefting the pendant from the bag. “Tell me about the Motley Lot. I need to know where they are now and why we have this pendant that belonged to their wizard.”

Velnir sneered at her and said, “If the paladin already knows so much, is she sure that she needs information from me regarding the whereabouts and fate of the Motley Lot?”

“She is sure, otherwise she wouldn’t be asking.”

Trickster suppressed a giggle as best he could as Vlnir pulled her hand away. The witch regarded Ru-lah coldly, not speaking for a good minute. Finally she relented.

“Ru-lah, if it is the whereabouts that you want to know, then you must tell me where your heart lies.”

Ru-lah felt a strange power creeping into her body. It felt like something thick flowing through her veins and working to make her muscles move of their own accord. She felt herself beginning to speak. Luckily, this was an easy answer.

“My heart is my own. Though I really love my mother. She’s kept me motivated to pursue my future and learn as much as I can. She is a single parent. My father left us when I was very young. For another woman if I remember correctly. Honestly, I don't give him or the ordeal much thought. He's gone now and it’s just me and my mother. I love her and appreciate everything she has done, despite her working long hours for the FBI.”

As she spoke, Ru-lah could more clearly envision Naomi. This was her secret heart! She felt a tear fall down her cheek. Naomi was over her father leaving. But she was always touched when she thought deeply about her mother. She didn’t like betraying emotion to others, so she would never have brought this up otherwise.

“I guess it is true what they say,” Ru-lah continued. “Home is where the heart is, and in my case, my heart is really at home.”

At first Velnir looked disappointed, but then she glanced back at Trickster and was happy. Ru-lah inwardly rolled her eyes. Trick always had a knack of attracting bad girls to him. He was going to end up being used up by some skank one of these days. Maybe today would be that day, if Velnir’s eyes had anything to say about the situation.

“And? What is your answer to my request, Velnir?”

The witch pried her eyes away from Trickster. If she had do that many more times, Ru-lah thought the witch would find at least one of her eyes permanently glued to the thief. Velnir needlessly smoothed her dress before responding.

“The Motley Lot are broken up at moment. And they will be difficult to find even when apart. I do know where you can find most of them, and even how you can get there. They are at the beach in a place called Miami.”

Trickster nearly leapt out of his seat as his face lit up. Ru-lah felt the excitement too.

But why would this story takes us here then, when we were already in Miami to begin with?

“You must cross through a gathering a strange and fearsome beasts in order to make it to where they are at.”

“And how do we get there,” Trickster asked.

Velnir smiled and said, “I can easily grant you passage there, my fine friend. Or you can take the slower route through these woods. But given the great Beast that is coming, you’ll probably want the faster route. But that will again cost something from you.”

“And what do we have to give this time? A cherished childhood memory,” Ru-lah asked, exasperated.

“No. This time I require deed on my behalf. If I will be giving you a shortcut to where you wish to go, then I’ll need something of equal value,” Velnir answered.

“And what might that be,” Trickster ventured.

“I need you to clear away some pests within this forest,” Velnir said silkily. “You will find them to the north of here. Little blue creatures given to song and desperate to carve a way through woods like ants.”

Something about that sounded vaguely familiar to Ru-lah, so she asked a qualifying question, “Can you describe these little blue creatures further?”

Velnir almost shuddered as she said, “They are horrid small things. They war naught but white trousers and hats. They are for the most part bald. They might not seem like much, but they have uncanny luck, magic, and a fortitude that makes most trolls seem soft and squishy.”

Ru-lah hurried over to Trickster and whispered, “I think she’s talking about Smurfs!”

“Are you sure,” Trickster asked, bewildered. “Aren’t they supposed to be myths?”

The paladin slugged him in the shoulder and hissed, “No! I think like the kind of Smurfs from where Trick and Naomi come from! Only, this time, real!”

Trickster nodded slowly and then spoke up to Velnir who was watching them closely. “Miss Velnir-”

“Just Velnir will do” she purred at him.

“Velnir,” he repeated. “Does the subject of magical doors ring any bells to you? And I don’t mean like a regular door with magical properties. I mean like a gateway that connects worlds. A Door?”

“What do you know about Doors,” she breathed.

“Only that we’ve encountered them three times already,” Trickster answered. “And if these little blue guys are Smurfs, then it sounds like we are dealing with our fourth again.”

Velnir stared hungrily at him and said, “Complete this task for me, and not only will I grant you passage to the gathering of creatures, but we will discuss deeply the matter and lore of Doors.”

“No,” Ru-lah suddenly said.

“What,” the witch and thief asked together.

The paladin stood her ground as she said again, “No! We will not. It is fine to trade information, but to go and kill helpless Smurfs. Sorry, but that goes against my orientation as a character!”

“I’m fine either way,” Trickster said. “But it sounds like we might want to hurry.”

“And killing innocent creatures will save us time? I don't think so. Come on Trick, let’s go!”

The witch’s front door slammed shut and the lights all burned so low that nearly became dark. Ru-lah smiled to herself.