The skeleton, crushed in the vise between Alice’s shield and a stone wall, crumbled to dust. The other layers of dust in the catacombs welcomed the new addition. Alice took a few breaths for her sanity’s sake - of course, skeletons that moved on their own were pretty low on the crazy meter compared to the other things that had happened since yesterday, but she fought tooth and nail to make sure she didn’t get acclimated to it. She felt buying into this whole mess would keep her from ever going home.
She didn’t hear any more sounds of fighting, but turned around ready, just in case. Only her friends looked back. “That was all of them, Alice,” said Gary. “Good job,” he added with a smile.
Gary was an enigma. He was a star player on the basketball team. He could discuss famous dancers with Alice. He was a straight “A” student. He was tall. He was gorgeous. He became friends with everyone he talked to. And he played that game with the colored dice. Alice didn’t understand the game, but he insisted this whole situation was following its rules. She’d seen him, Nick, and Laura all playing it down in dorm lounge. She tried to get close to Gary by showing an interest, but she couldn’t follow it - too abstract, too nerdy.
She sheathed her rapier. “Anyone need healing?” she asked.
Nick inhaled through his teeth. “Yeah, I think I’m in real pain.” He grabbed his crotch. “Can you do your ‘Lay on Hands’ thing, Ms. Paladin?”
He was immediately smacked by Laura. “Grow up, idiot.”
Nick and Laura were siblings. He was an obnoxious little brat, and she was an obese mess of insecurities. They were all freshmen at NYU. Before this all started, anyway.
“Let’s keep everything civil, guys,” said Gary, his bass voice settling all disputes.
It didn’t stop new ones, though. “Are you censoring me?” Nick’s head tended to bob about when he pretended to be slighted. “That’s so gay. PC should only stand for Player Character.” Though Nick was in the same class as the others, he was only 16 - he’d skipped two grades of public school. Alice thought he could’ve used those other two years. Against the advice of Gary and Laura, he’d chosen gnome as his race (because they were “funnier”). Alice found it fitting the first time she saw him as a bulbous, three-foot tall lawn ornament. He called everything and everyone gay, blew up at the smallest offense (real or imagined), and had spent a large portion of his time trying to “get in her pants,” as he put it. Over the last couple days, however, she’d started seeing some good qualities in him - he was certainly smart, could be thoughtful, cared for his sister, and had a strong sense of justice. Alice determined his usual demeanor was him trying too hard.
Gary just smiled at Nick. “Time to press on,” he said. Nick responded well to Gary - Alice assumed it was because Nick wanted to be close to power. “Laura, where’s the secret door?”
Laura unrolled a piece of parchment and consulted it. “I believe we shall find the mechanism to open it ten feet from the end of the hallway, in a burial crevasse,” she said. Alice noted that she went back to her slow, overly enunciated method of speaking. “I shall unlock the door; it is better if I be the one who disturbs the dead.” Alice suppressed an eye roll. Laura and Nick were people who “just didn’t get it” (not that Alice knew exactly what “it” was, but she knew when someone had a lack of it). Laura was smart in her own right, but felt she had make sure everyone around her knew it. This made her come off as incredibly patronizing. Had this been high school, Alice would’ve destroyed her “better than you” attitude with a few well placed quips just within earshot. Now, though, Alice had learned a bit of understanding - chances were Laura felt intellectually inferior to her brother, and had to overcompensate. She was a self-proclaimed Goth, and had the requisite death fixation - she’d “gone Necromancer at level 2”, whatever that meant. She chose elf as her race, and Alice assumed it was because she hoped being an elf would make her thin and pretty. It didn’t work.
Gary tapped a finger as Laura searched for the switch. “So we’re clear on the plan, right?” he said. “We focus on Tyrene - I’ll hit him with a constitution Hex, Laura with whatever she can dish out, and Alice will charge so Nick can get sneak attacks. Once he’s down, his undead should fall apart, just like the priest in the Cypress graveyard.”
“Yeah, we know,” sighed Nick, giant gnome nose pointed up in exasperation. “And since he’s human, we look for an opportunity to cut the lights in the sanctuary since we all have darkvision. Don’t be gay, man.”
“I’ll try,” chuckled Gary. “How’re we all feeling? Pretty sure level 3’s coming up right after this. Everyone psyched?” He looked at Alice.
“I have no idea what that means,” she shrugged. “But sure - let’s say your excitement’s infectious.”
Gary smiled. “Good. Don’t forget - you should go ‘Oath of the Ancients’ when you level up. A Wood Elf Oath of the Ancients Paladin is classic.” She shook her head with a smirk; he was being overly terminological to tease her. She might’ve teased him back, but he was stuck in the Friend Zone until they returned - his tail and horns were too much for her. “Nick, you’re going Arcane Trickster, right?”
“Yeah, but this Fifth Edition stuff is so gay,” he said. “This should’ve been 3.5, and I should’ve been able to choose my homemade Vampire Curse Bearer class. I’d own all this shit.”
“If only, huh?” responded Gary. “Me, I’ll just be happy once I get Pact of the Blade. I’m going to walk around with a badass scythe.”
There was sudden clank followed by the sound of stone grinding on stone. The back wall of the hallway swung open, revealing a lightless passage lined with bones. “It is done,” stated Laura.
“Gee, thanks. Couldn’t have figured that out by myself,” sneered Nick. Laura ignored him.
They proceeded down the passage, boys in front. Alice and Laura stayed out of the conversation debating the merits of each D&D edition. Step by step, the light from the previous room faded, and Alice’s sense of her surroundings became black lines on black. Though her friends were close by and she could tell where everything was, the darkness made her feel very lonely.
After a while, Laura opened up with “When bones line the walls of crypts, it is called an ossuary.”
Alice waited politely for the follow-up to that. “…And?” she finally asked.
“…And they can be found in the catacombs of Paris,” replied Laura.
“Oh.” This had been bothering Alice for a while. “I already know you’re smart, Laura. You don’t have to hit me with trivia at random times.”
There was a pause before Laura gave her a defensive ‘tche’. “I wouldn’t expect a little blonde cheerleader to understand.”
Alice wondered where that came from. Perhaps Laura felt she was being pitied. “Oh, I wasn’t a cheerleader,” she said. Best bet to get through to her was to seem relatable. “I took dance and gymnastics, yeah. But prancing and cheering and being all peppy? That’s so not my style. Gotta be true to yourself, right?”
Laura didn’t respond. The boys’ argument hit a fever pitch.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Nick, mockingly. He put his palms together and stared up at the ceiling. “I forgot the mantra: Glory be to 5-E, Glory be to 5-E….”
“We should endeavor to keep quiet,” hissed Laura.
Nick exhaled with a “Pfff—“, then added, “He already knows we’re coming - between his friend and his connection to his undead, we’re not surprising anyone. No reason to be stealthy now.”
“That’s true…” pondered Gary. “He does know we’re coming, and this is the last hall before the sanctuary….”
Laura seemed to pick up his thoughts. “And he has a host of other undead at his beck and call, which means we can infer he is not sending them because he is preoccupied with something else—indeed the ritual must already be progressing!”
“Stop being stupid,” said Nick. “Gary means there’s probably traps around, that’s all. Don’t worry; I’ve been looking.”
“But you haven’t found any yet,” said Laura. “So, if there aren’t any—“
Alice tuned them out. While she would normally appreciate a distraction from the walls of eyeless skulls staring at her, she’d been saturated with talk of tactics, statistics, monsters, spells, gayness, and many other topics. A part of her knew it was wise to pay attention. Most of her, however, didn’t care what the others’ books said - this wasn’t a game. She couldn’t feel blood run down from her sword in a game, she couldn’t let magic percolate through her body in a game, she couldn’t be nearly incinerated by fire in a game. At least, not any game she was familiar with. Or wanted to be familiar with. And yet, all those things and more had happened to them, and the others still treated everything the same.
Forget skeletons and magic and whatever other crap - that’s what would make her lose her sanity.
The party stopped. “Laura, you have the map.” said Gary. “Is there supposed to be a door here?”
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In front of them, blocking all progress, was a door. Its edifice was a mass of gears and levers, and indented on it was some writing, though Alice didn’t recognize the language.
“There is not,” intoned Laura. “However, the map is old; this could be a new addition.” She then said a few words, and the hall was bathed in light.
“Ow, warn me next time!” scolded Nick, rubbing his eyes.
It was a double door of solid metal. What must’ve been dozens of gears of various sizes filled both sides, and the levers, all seven of them, were different lengths, seemingly placed at random. “Must be a puzzle door,” grinned Gary.
“What do the words mean?” asked Alice.
“They are of the ancient tongue of Draconic,” cooed Laura with self-importance. “I shall translate them for you.”
“Don’t bother,” interrupted Nick. “I’ve already figured it out.”
Laura glared. “Oh? You, who does not read Draconic, know the answer to this puzzle whose only clues are written in Draconic?”
“Yep!”
Gary stopped Laura from committing fratricide. “All right, man. Show us what you got.”
Nick walked up to the door. “The whole thing is trapped. Every lever. This door’s a fake; doesn’t lead anywhere.” He took a step to the right, felt his small gnome hands along the bones of the wall, gripped one and pushed. With a clank, a large section gave way, sliding backwards. “I think the map says the hall turns right here, yeah?”
Gary laughed. “Nice, man. How’d you know?”
“If it seems too complicated, it’s probably a diversion,” smirked Nick. “Now turn the light off, Lar - no one wants to see that.”
Seething, Laura complied. Alice decided to leave her alone. They pushed the secret door back as far as it could go, at which point it turned on a hinge. Blue light beamed through the opening crack. With severity, Laura stated, “He has begun the ritual.”
Gary threw the door open the rest of the way. “Then we’ve got to run. Let’s do this like always, people!”
They charged into the light. Steps later, they found themselves in a large room. The far wall had a stone trough along its entirety, in which blue fire burned. Facing the flames, man in black robes, Tyrene, stood over a large altar, chanting sacrilege in hurried but precise words. A worryingly large amount of space in the room was taken up by about two score of skeletons and zombies, though they kept a respectable distance from the altar.
“Shit! How’d he make so many?” screamed Nick, sidestepping out of the way for Alice. He took a shot with his readied crossbow, striking Tyrene in the shoulder. Tyrene reeled, but kept chanting. The blue flames grew taller.
“Doesn’t matter!” bellowed Gary. “We just need to take down Tyrene! Avoid them if you can, but focus on him!” He held up a hand and clenched his fist. “Vomica!” Black mist spewed from Tyrene, then evaporated. Raising his other hand, Gary added, “Through the Fiend’s dark smile!” and brought the hand down with force, sending an amber ray of magic into Tyrene. He staggered, but kept chanting. The blue flames burned brighter.
The undead were starting to move as Alice dashed into the room. She didn’t mind their numbers - nothing could touch her. She whirled and twirled and zigged and zagged. Years of ballet and gymnastics had honed her body into a lithe, flexible, graceful thing of beauty long before this place turned her into an elf. She did an arial cartwheel over a low swinging blade. These were the only parts she truly liked about this whole mess - the focused energy that fueled her reflexes as she read and dodged enemy attacks and the foreign, yet somehow innate knowledge of how to strike that mixed with her own knowledge of assessing someone’s balance to decide when the perfect time to attack without reprisal was. Another amber ray and crossbow bolt struck Tyrene as she was en route, but he kept chanting. She kept up her daring feats of acrobatics. A quick chassé and she found herself a straight line to Tyrene. She took it.
A split second before her rapier pierced his back, he spun around, deflecting the blade with an ornate dagger. “Malta Chronos Malefacar, Trono Gaia Kabbalashar…” His chant continued, almost with a singsongy rhythm. The blue flames behind him were blinding, and had started to lick the ceiling. His grin was vicious. “Inktus Farum Nelota—“
“Shut up!” screamed Alice in a tantrum, backhanding her shield into his face. She flexed her soul the same instant it connected, sending a wave of conviction through the blow. Blood spattered out of Tyrene’s mouth as his head jerked violently to the side. He’d finally stopped chanting.
“You bitch!” he roared with a spray of crimson. The flames immediately died down to a simmering orange. He prepared to lunge for Alice’s throat, but was interrupted by three glowing pricks of light, which unerringly struck him in the chest. He batted away another of Alice’s thrusts as he glared at something behind her. He put two fingers to his temple, said “Until night consumes existence,” and pointed the fingers.
Alice could hear Laura start screaming from the other side of the room. A crossbow bolt came out of nowhere and struck Tyrene in the arm. “Laura!” came Nick’s voice. “What’s wrong? There’s nothing there! It’s just an illus—argh! Fucking skeletons!”
Alice sidestepped an over-arcing attack from Tyrene, striking him back as he regained his balance. Another of Gary’s amber rays collided with him. “This bastard just won’t go down!” Gary bitched.
Laura’s screams hit a high note, and then stopped just as a blinding white light seared Alice’s retinas. She cradled her head in her sword arm, raising her shield as deterrent from blows. A sharp pain hit her side - it must not’ve worked.
“What, is it a flash-bang spell?” Nick’s voice could be heard. “That’s so gay!” Another burst of light hit Alice, and she backed away from where she thought Tyrene was, hoping to avoid another hit. Instead, she was struck with a sword in the back.
“Ahh,” Tyrene’s voice was rage controlled through amusement. “You could feel that, could you? Interesting.”
Alice, eyes still not adjusted, spun around shield first. It collided with a crunch, and she was pretty sure she’d just taken out a skeleton. Once she could make out Tyrene’s figure against the flames, she charged.
Tyrene said a few words, causing blue energy to cackle from his hand. He reached out to grab Alice, but she flitted around him and stabbed him in the underarm for his troubles.
Another burst of light blinded her. It was bad. She didn’t want to back off in case one of the undead got her, but staying in arm’s reach of Tyrene wasn’t a good idea, either. Blind offense it was.
She held her shield up to Tyrene, which got her a stab in the shoulder from him. She then shoved off in a jolt of strength, knocking him off balance. She kept pushing forward. Tyrene stumbled, unable to catch himself. With a scream, he was pushed back into the trough of fire.
Alice’s eyesight came back as Tyrene, covered in whatever fuel the trough held, ignited. His screams were horrible. He dragged himself out of trough and tried to crawl away from Alice. She wouldn’t let him. Flames tickled her boots as she lined her rapier up against his neck. With one quick motion, Tyrene was dead.
She looked up at the rest of the room as the host of undead collapsed into dust. None of her friends were looking back. She inhaled sharply, her sword clattering to the floor as she covered her mouth.
“No, please, no.” Her repeating whispers turned to screams as she ran towards them. Laura’s face was white, frozen in uncomprehending horror. Nick was on the ground, resting quietly a few feet away from his own head. Gary laid on the floor, head propped up by one of his horns, eyes focused on nothing in particular. His dozen stab wounds had already stopped bleeding. She slid onto her knees into the pool of blood, holding her hands onto his chest. Warmth flowed through her arms, out her hands, and into him. Nothing happened. Alice’s screams continued unabated. “No! Please! Work! Why won’t it work?” Tears flowed down her cheeks as she began to realize it was hopeless.
In the back of her mind, far from her conscious thoughts, was the sensation of falling.
She slipped on the blood as she made her way to Laura. She put her hands on her and tried to transfer more of the warmth. Nothing happened.
The sense of falling gained a little urgency.
She started for Nick, but fell to her knees when she saw his lifeless head staring at her. “No… God… please….” Her strength was leaving her. She stumbled back to Gary.
The sense of falling was now noticeable enough to make her queasy, though she attributed it to the sight of her dead friends.
She cupped her hands around Gary’s face, looking into his eyes. When they didn’t look back, she became angry. “You said this was a game!” Her hands moved to his collar. She started shaking him violently. “You said this would be easy!” His body started smacking against the floor as rage overtook her. “You said this would be fun!”
He didn’t respond.
“You can’t just leave me here!”
The words echoed throughout the room, then fell to silence. She was alone. Alone in a world she didn’t want or understand. Alone and far from home.
The sense of falling was pushing on the membrane of her consciousness.
She had no one. She had no purpose. She had no will. Gently at first, then with increasing magnitude, her sobs filled the room.
She suddenly felt like she was falling, though she could feel the hard floor, sticky with blood, beneath her knees.
In a burst of anger, she grabbed her spare dagger with both hands, thrusting it up to her throat. She found herself stopped half an inch before a fatal blow. Warm blood trickled down her neck.
She still felt like she was falling.
Her breathing through gritted teeth was strained. This was her only way out. Her only way to escape. Just a little further.
The sense of falling suddenly came with an image. She was descending towards the top of a wall.
Why was it so hard? She tensed her arms, sending more droplets of blood down her front. She just needed a small movement.
It wasn’t one wall she was falling towards - it was three. They all sprouted from the same point, dividing the space between into three parts. She landed right in the middle.
The dagger, cold when it first pierced her skin, was now warm. Inviting. She had nothing to live for here.
She was on top of the walls, staring down at each of the spaces below. Though she had stopped falling, there was now a weight pressing down on her. It grew in intensity.
Why couldn’t she end it? More tears flowed from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks and mixing with the blood on her neck.
Each section was a different path. A different her. The weight was crushing. She’d have to choose one.
She let out a whining moan, which echoed back. The sound disgusted her. She was pathetic.
Each path was separate. Different. But each lead to the same end.
She dropped the dagger, letting it splash in the blood. Her eyes closed.
She knew she could choose any path, but only one was right for her. She stepped off the wall, and the words came to her as she fell.
“I, Alice Leanne Carter, declare in unity of soul, conviction, and will, to fight Evil in all of its forms, uphold the Justice of the World, and tread the path of Righteousness.” She was no longer falling. She was still right where she was. Where she needed to be.
“I understand that I am limited, and cannot be part of every fight. Therefore, when a decision is warranted, and foregoing all other considerations, I Vow to always Fight the Greater Evil.
“And with the understanding of Degrees of Evil comes the understanding of Degrees of Punishment. An ordinary foe might win my mercy, but never the Greater Evil. Thus, I Vow to show No Mercy for the Wicked.
“I understand that I am a vessel for exterminating Evil. Each new breath I take serves only to uphold this oath, and any misgivings my former life may have had will never hinder my progress. Thus, I Vow to fight By Any Means Necessary.
“While I understand that I am limited, I also understand that limitation is never an excuse. If my foes wreak ruin on the world, it is solely because I failed to stop them. I must help those harmed by their misdeeds, and therefore Vow to give Restitution.
“These Words are absolute; the Tenets of my Oath. By their Righteousness, my old life ends. On their Foundation, my new life begins. For their Glory, my last breath will be.”
She opened her eyes.
“This is my Oath of Vengeance.”