I wake up just before the fighter touches me. I was a light sleeper, and he isn't exactly subtle.

“Time for your watch.”

He says. I'm feeling refreshed, but still groggy from sleep. I wipe the sleep from my eyes. The night is chilly, but the fire burns warm and bright. I pull the robe around me, and grip my backpack. The gold pouch tucked safely inside of it. I trudge over next to the fire, and pop a squat on the ground. The smoke immediately billowing into my face, and stinging my eyes. I stand and walk to the other side of the fire, and the wind suddenly changes direction to blow the smoke into my face. I walk, and sit 90 degrees from where I am, and the smoke decides to chill out.

The stars are very pretty. No light pollution out here. I take time to bask in the wonder of the universe. No matter where I am the stars will always remain the same. The moon is waxing but hangs golden in the sky amid the stars. I stoke the fire, sending embers spiraling into the air. I let out a sigh.

After some rest I've come to the conclusion something is wrong. Very wrong, apocalyptic even, okay maybe that's a bit far. I root through my bag, and pull out my role-playing binder. I flip to an empty divider, and fill it with a sheaf of paper. Brainstorming has always helped me, and the crackle of fire, and chirping of night insects is soothing.

I write in order of things that I thought were happening yesterday.

Black out

Sleepwalking

Weird game show

Next I wrote down some more possible answers. Switching into quest hook gear.

Kidnapped.

Memory lost.

Teleportation.

Summoning.

Time jump.

I put teleportation, summoning, and time jump in a separate column. Magic isn't real, but I humor myself. I ask myself leading questions. Why was I teleported/summoned/time jumped? Who teleported/summoned/time jumped me? Where did I get teleported/summoned/time jumped to?

I decided to cross out time jumped due to the fact since magic didn’t exist it likely never did. So if I was in my old world I would not be able to time jump. Therefore, it was safe to assume I was transported to another world. I brushed the implications to the side for a moment.

I was summoned to another world, that means I met a dra- NOPE BRUSH THOSE THOUGHTS TO THE SIDE.

I decided to rewrite the remaining options. Magical freak of nature, summoning (mundane), summoning (divine).

A magical freak of nature was just that, and what I thought most likely from a third person perspective. It accounted for the hands off nature of the summoning, the randomness of location, and lack of OPness. Although if a dragon had given me two pieces of equipment they would both be OP.

Mundane summoning seemed wrong. No circle of wizards, no rite carved in blood, not even a sleeping wizard in a chair. Just a dark cave, although I didn't get a look around. Which was a bad on my part. I dismissed that.

Lastly was the divine intervention. Which was a 50/50 chance in my opinion. I feel like I would have some kind of meeting with them, where they gave me a quest to fight a demon lord. That wasn't the case unless I forgot it. My quest however could be to become the demon lord, or some equivalent. Maybe a necromancer? A “dark” god summoning me to learn the truth about the world, and then fight my friends summoned by “light” gods who have been led astray, only to find it was them who were evil all along? Seems kinda forced.

I decide I'll refrain from fighting anyone as much as I can, just in case. I also decide I can leave my inevitable panic attack to the comfort of one the many inns that seem to thrive in fantasy worlds despite the lack of any reasonable income.

The sun starts to peak over the horizon. Well I probably should've gotten the rogue up. Oh, well, our scout being more rested during the day is nothing bad. I tuck my binder away, I can finish the brainstorming later.

I wake up the party. And by waking up I mean I got two pans brought them real close to the clerics head and slammed them together as hard as I could.

She yelps, and jolts upright.

“Good you’re awake.”

I say smiling at her. If looks could kill I'm sure my soul would be a fine paste. I throw one of the pans at the rogue, and the other at the fighter.

“GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM.”

I shout at them. The rogue does some cool ninja jump to a stand, the fighter nearly rolls into the fire. Giving himself a slight burn from a particularly warm rock.

“Cleric give, Wiz a once over. Let me know if her condition has worsened. Fighter, help me pack up camp, Rogue make sure no goblins are waiting to stab us in the kidneys. Be subtle, but don’t be afraid to make noise if shit’s going down.”

I designate the orders. I kick dirt over the fire, and roll up the bedrolls. I toss the cleric, and fighter a bit of food, and a water skin each. With all the gear bundled, I head over to knife ears.

Her nose is swollen, but she hasn’t been bleeding out of the nose anymore, and nothing else seems to be wrong. I pass my fingers under her nostrils, she’s still breathing, and regularly too. I pull one of the books I have in my bag out, and tuck it under her head. I tighten her bindings again.

“She is doing fine, she’ll freak about her nose though.”

The Cleric says. I shrug,

“Her nose shouldn’t have been so weak.”

I reply. The Cleric opens her mouth to say something, furrows her brow and then closes it. She turns away, and picks up her bag. The rogue comes back, I can hear him rummaging through his bag behind me.

“Let’s head out then.”

One of the blisters on my hands pops nearly immediately. My hands are totally fucked. I tie the rope around my waist, and find it awkward to pull on the rope like this. I sigh, and try looping it around my backpack instead. This is much better although the straps are pulling on my shoulder, and are kinda annoying. Better than my hands being blistered to shit though. Rogue is off in the forest doing his thing, and Fighter and Cleric have formed up in the same positions as yesterday.

While we walk, and since my hands are free I lift my staff.

“Go web!”

I wave the staff around.

“Shazam, abracadabra, open sesame, make my monster grow, let it rip, Plus Ultra, excelsior, Pikachu I choose you, you shall not pass, it was me DIO, reese's puffs peanut butter chocolate flavor.”

Nothing changed with the staff though.

“What are you doing?”

Cleric asks.

“Trying to get this thing to work.”

I knock the staff head on the ground.

“That's not how-”

“shush! Do you hear that.”

I pause momentarily, and cock my head.

“It's the sound of you shutting the fuck up.”

I decide walking and carrying someone is probably not conducive to concentration which I need.

Two hours into the walk, we spot a plume of smoke denoting a town, and a dirt road starts to form on the ground. I can feel panic creeping up my body, like the day before a big test you are positive you are going to fail. But I suppress it. The town palisades come into view, and some kid appears out of the bushes somewhere and goes running into town.

“THEY’RE BACK! THEY’RE BACK!”

He shouts before disappearing into the town. People begin to gather inside of the town.

Of course pointy ears takes this as her cue to begin screaming at the top of her lungs.

The cleric rushes over to her, and tries to calm her down. The town begins to circle the party.

An extremely self-important armored man, walks up to us.

“What are you lot doing back? I thought you were going to fight the Dread Beast?”

He questions the fighter with an accusatory glare.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I got them out of there; these fucko’s wouldn’t last against a tribe of goblins, let alone a grown Dragon.”

I reply. The man glares at me.

“And who are you?”

He asks, obviously upset at me.

“Who the fuck are you? Actually I don’t care let me speak to whoever is in charge.”

I reply. The sooner I could get the fuck out of this the better. A murmur ripples through the crowd. The man begins to turn a shade of red.

“I AM IN CHARGE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

I knew it was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but he just left me the opportunity.

“The person who walked out of Waylaxilantarians cave alive.”

I reply.

“Robe and staff of ages past,

Mold the world into his cast.

Legions break upon his shield,

Fear the thunder that he wields.”

Ol’ knife ears chimes in. Nice little rhyme I've got to say. The crowd erupts into whispers. I could practically see the argument in the man's head. I was a threat to his authority if I was a nobody, but if I was who they said I was then he couldn't risk offending me.

“Cleric shut her up; use a sleeping spell...or a brick.”

I don’t even look over my shoulder. I just continued to stare down the guard.

“I asked to speak to whose in charge, this lot were woefully under-prepared, take me to the responsible authority. Obviously they have no clue what the hell they are doing.”

This elicits an immediate response. Several members of the crowd cry out, and the guard smirks.

“You are accused of dissenting the crown, will you come willingly?”

He gives me an evil glare, and pulls a pair of iron manacles off of his belt. Sometimes I should keep my mouth shut. But why the fuck would the crown send a bunch of teenagers to fight this dragon. They have no clue what the fuck they are doing.

“As long as you take me king himself.”

I drop my backpack, and heft the staff over my shoulder. I don’t enter into a threatening stance, but I let the threat hang. I'm hoping he backs down, but this guy thinks he's a big man. Well he is a big man, and the crowd jeers him on.

“Are you gonna do something?”

Rogue asks, he doesn’t like the look of the crowd, and he isn't offered a moment to escape. At least not one where he gets away.

I thumb my phone in my pocket. Hitting the on button.

“Is wiz conscious enough to cast thaumaturgy?”

I ask back.

“Uh, what? Yeah, sure. She is groggy, but her fit is over.”

He replies.

“Just fucking tell her to cast the spell that makes noises really fucking loud on the box in my hand.”

The guard is moving closer. I can feel the screen heating up. I punch in my password on reflex. I pull it out of pocket needing my sight for the next part. This causes the guard to hesitate. The glowing box a tool for extreme power, and also used for looking at pictures of cats on the internet.

I flip to one of the those apps where you click a button, and it plays a sound. It was filled with a number of stock sounds like police siren, and thunder.

“Now!” I say. Pressing the button, then quickly swiping my screen to pull up the flashlight. Flicking the button once to simulate the visuals.

Now I don't know if you have ever stood in the middle of an explosion while it went off, but that's what I assume this sounded like. Absolutely deafening noise. My ears were still ringing, and I felt something wet trickle from them. I reach up to touch my ears they are bleeding. Some people have outright collapsed. Others are sprinting away as fast as they can. The guard has fallen over in fright. I walk up to him, blood running down my neck.

“So about talking to that higher authority.”

I smile at him. I'm 90% sure I said that but I can't hear my own voice. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and suddenly my hearing returns to me.

“Thank you Cleric.”

I get a sigh in reply.

“I turn around everyone alright then?”

Rogue managed to cover his ears, but Fighter and Wizard are still kinda dazed by it. Wizard is now unbound and sitting on the sled. I grab my backpack off the ground, and the book that was under Wizards head.

I walk over to the guard, and stick my hand out to help him up.

“Hi, I’m Jonathan do you have an Inn, or guard house where we can talk to the town head?”

He's taken aback by my sudden shift in attitude, but accepts my hand.

“Damien, pleasure to meet you Grand Magus Jonathan.”

His own personality has straightened out, giving me respect when I would have been satisfied with him ignoring me.

“Cleric find an Inn with locking doors, cheap. Rogue go with her. Fighter, wizard shopping trip. Get a sled like the one I made, two pots of honey you can hold in a hand each, 60 sheets of a cheap paper or, parchment. A waterproof scroll case, a bag of flour, 5 pouches you can easily reach into and hook onto a belt, a waterproof backpack, two bags of 100 ball bearings, one bag of caltrops 100, a 20-foot pole something collapsible if you can, 200 feet of rope in 50 foot segments, a collapsible ladder, 60 feet of thin wire or sturdy string, actually 50 feet of each, 5 additional daggers, two water pouches, and top up the rations to 3 weeks for each of us.”

I toss the bag of money to Fighter who fumbles a bit but catches it. Wizard looks lost, but Fighter has grabbed her arm, and is dragging her along.

“Also get a fucking hatchet. Shall we go?”

I ask the guard he is completely befuddled, but nods.

The walk to the largest building in the town, which is also the only two story, and stone building in town, is brief. It has a central location. Most of the people walking around are frightened, and very poor looking. Not emaciated or dirty, but the clothing is practically ancient, and has been patched over so many times its it's hard to tell the difference between shirt, and patch.

We enter the stone building and are greeted by two guards wearing extremely shoddy armor. A cell has a drunk man, with vomit all down his front, sleeping in it. A large wooden table, with a map of the area burned into it, sits in the center of the room.

The guard sits down on one side of the table, and beckons me to sit.

“I'm Constable Damien, no lord rules these lands, so I'm the highest authority.”

Guess he wasn't lying. A young boy probably 12 rushes over with a mug in each hand. He places one in front of each of us.

“Sorry for being rude earlier, the adventurers are just on a bit of a time limit.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Time limit?”

“I’m assuming you are a foreigner otherwise you would know.”

I nod at him.

“Last year the king died, his wife died giving birth to his son, and he drank himself to death. He had no other children, and his current son is not even 2 years old. So a member of a branch family was chosen to assume the throne. That was Phineas.”

He says.

“Don’t know him.”

I reply.

“The armored one. You called him Fighter. Anyway, his bloodline isn't strong enough you see, since the crown has the bloodline of dragon slayers. So to prove that he is worthy of ascending the throne he must slay a dragon.”

I nod I'm following along so far.

“Why the time limit?”

He grimaces.

“Well a prophecy exists, that tells that if a throne remains empty for too long, a being of unimaginable power from beyond the stars, will rise from beneath the earth, and use its foreign knowledge to plunge the world into a war that changes it forever. And that can't be good.”

“Yeah sounds pretty bad.”

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, fucking fuckity fuck.

“Not a big fan of prophecies though, to inaccurate. Any signs leading up to this beings' arrival?”

He puts his hand to his chin.

“Well the first thing the being is supposed to do is make two deals in the dark. But our lords like peace, so I doubt they would accept something like that.”

Yup, uh huh. So definitely stay out of wars.

“Onto a lighter topic, why live so close to a dragon?”

He takes a sip of the drink.

“Everyone here is a free man, normally you work indentured to a lord for protection. But you can petition a lord to live here, and you become a free man.”

I nod and take a sip of my drink too. Eugh alcohol, I place it down.

“Yeah but why live here in the first place? What are you producing that is so important?”

He whistles, and something comes sailing over my head. He smiles at me holding up a fat orange-yellow fruit.

“These, they call them Dragon Eyes.”

He rotates the fruit showing the stem which is shaped like the eye of a cat, but I guess dragons as well.

“They last about half a year, and grow from early spring until late fall. They aren’t great tasting, but they are as hardy as a hot bowl of stew. Three of these could feed you a day. They grow on bushes everywhere too. Only problem is they only grow around dragon lairs.”

He rolls it across the table to me. No wonder everyone looks so healthy they probably eat these for every meal.

I grab the dagger I accosted from the party, and slice it open. It has a rind like an orange, although the outside is smooth. The inside is firm, and porous, the center looks like a mushroom with webbing holding what I assumed is a seed. I take a bite, it's very bland. No other way to describe it.

“Not many are around, even less live in places people can, fewer still don’t kill anyone that steps foot on their land. Waylaxilantarian sleeps most of the time, so they were hoping to catch him unawares and kill him with Dragon slayer. The sword.”

Oh, the one I used to cut down trees.

“If you walked out of his cave though, then I guess he'll be asleep forever now though. Which brings up another interesting dilemma.”

He walks over to a wooden board with sheets of parchment nailed to it. He pulls one off, and slides it to me. It's a bounty,

BY DECLARATION OF THE CROWN.

Hereby any individuals who slay a dragon on this kingdoms ground may assume lordship of said land, by reporting to a representative of the crown. In addition to this they may also receive a balance of 10000 gold pieces in labor, and resources for development of said land. At least 4 people must bare witness, or a member of the royal family.

Well that's a thing.

“I have no doubt that the group will bare witness for you, and Phineas would certainly be enough alone. Only problem is the matter of the throne now.”

He holds his face in his hands. I smile at him.

“That's easy I’d say. Change the ruling body.”

He looks at me like I've just killed a puppy.

“If there is no throne to be emptied, then the prophecy can't be fulfilled.”

He stares at me for a moment,

“That almost makes sense. We can reinstate the throne when the prince is of age. I'll start drafting letters.”

He whistles to one of the guards.

“Find Prince Phineas I'll need his seal.”

I take that as my cue to leave. About a minute after I leave the guards building the Rogue pops up beside me. “Cle- Anise found an Inn called Dragon's lair.”

I give him a look,

“A little on the nose there ain't it?”

I reply, he shrugs.

“She found it funny.”

I sigh,

“Lead the way. Wizard, and Fighter?”

I ask.

“Cadence, is already there. Fi-neas, is getting rounded up by the guards already.”

We arrive at the ‘Dragon’s Lair’ pretty soon. A weathered sign of a red tail wrapping around a pile of gold. The door swings open easily. A couple of tables have been shoved together with a pile of gear on them. Wizard and Cleric are sitting down. A bowl of something, and a mug of something next to them.

I pull out a chair, and start to divvy up the loot. Time to turn these guys into proper adventurers.