The tense instant stretched into a moment of quiet dread. From there it became an awkward silence. It settled into a confused interim.

Yeah, now was the time.

I considered one last time, this was high risk. I looked out at the shell of a town, “Denise can you come down here?”

I felt the telltale thrum of time stopping. Crystals of ice stayed suspended in the air and glimmered in the red light of the setting sun. It would have been pretty if we weren’t standing in the dead husk of an abandoned town.

“What’s up Doug?” Denise asked. She had appeared behind me inside the church.

“I have a few questions about this whole planned trip to the tower.” I turned to face her.

I waited a moment and Celeste’s eyes lit up. She blinked and looked back and forth between me and Denise. She nodded and checked a prompt, “This isn’t eating my time.”

I nodded, and pressed on, “Was that clusterfuck between the giants and the dragon our second fight?”

“Doug, there are rules about metagaming.” Denise explained. She kept her tone calm but quickly took a series of tiny steps. Her goal was to keep her distance from me, but also have a pew between her and Celeste. “Those rules prevent me from saying things like: you are going to be attacked tonight.”

“That’s not helpful,” I told her. I wasn’t surprised a Narrator wouldn’t help me.

“It would be cheating if I could say things like” Denise shrugged in a greatly exaggerated way and when she spoke her voice was over emphasizing every word “You are going to be attacked tonight.”

Celeste and I exchanged a look. I knew I was kicking the hornet's nest. I was surprised that Denise would stick her neck out for me. This wasn’t exactly a massive head start, but still better than nothing. That said, I wasn’t taking back my words about Narrators being unhelpful.

“You bitch!” Lindsey yelled. In proud Narrator tradition she had appeared behind me. This meant she was outside on the steps leading up to the church. Lindsey tried to storm up to Denise but I was still standing in the doorway. I didn’t move for her. She tried to push past me but she couldn’t manage it. She glared at me, I gazed back at her unconcerned. Lindsey blinked and then clipped through the wall before stomping up to Denise. “I should wring your scrawny bitch neck.”

“Threats aren’t going to get you anything, Lindsey,” Denise said in a voice that shook only a little. She took a few steps back and continued, “I am not afraid of you.”

I am no expert, but I sensed some fear of Lindsey in Denise. Also if they fought it would be Lindsey winning ten out of ten times, at least a physical fight. Denise could possibly hold her own in the arena of shit weasel politics.

“I don’t have to threaten anything. Grace is going to gut you like a fish when she hears you told players they are going to be attacked tonight.”

I chose sides. Denise wasn’t my friend, but Lindsey was my enemy.

“Wait, I am going to be attacked tonight?” I asked loudly.

“That is what Lindsey said,” Celeste responded, matching my volume.

“That is unfortunate,” Wilson added. He had appeared sitting on the bench of the organ. He grinned at Lindsey but his eyes had a cold crocodile glint to them. He then played the ‘dun-dun-duuuuun!’ music sting on the organ.

“Oh you backbiting son of a bitch,” Lindsey growled.

“You should stop talking,” Grace said flatly. She had appeared at the pulpit.

“Her words to god’s ears!” Wilson proclaimed like a televangelist.

“This is not amusing,” Grace said, eyeing me angrily. “This new Titan Spawn is clearly a major source of Narrative disruption.”

“That’s bullshit,” Wilson argued. “We did your test. Had a whole show with thunderbolts and lightning. Sure that was very, very frightening, but nothing went wrong. Not one little blip in the system.”

“That’s because Marge wouldn’t let any of the damage spill over onto the goblins,” Lindsey complained.

Wilson went very still and he spoke with that emotionless monotone, “Funny how you keep doing things that jeopardize our Narrative. We are building to a bloody clash at the Demon’s Tower. Two armies slaughtering each other. Yet, somehow you keep undermining my story.” Anger crept into his words, “You force a premature meeting. You suggest irreparable damage to our attacking army. You break the metagame rules!”

“Your pet lickspittal did that!” Linsdey shouted pointing at Denise.

“Before you interrupted I was handling the situation. No metagaming. We can review the transcripts. It will show Doug suspected nothing until you told him what was about to happen,” Denise said. She really tried to look hard nosed but flinched when Lindsey turned.

“That’s true,” I added, trying to sound helpful.

Lindsey didn’t deck Denise. She shot me a hate filled look before turning to Grace, “This is a setup. You have to see that.”

“If this is so obviously a setup, how did you fall into it?” Grace asked coldly. Her eyes weren’t looking at any of us. Instead she stared into a middle distance. I am pretty sure she was reviewing the transcript. She frowned and shook her head. “Mental resistance is such a profound pain.”

“She has been under a lot of pressure,” Brandon said. He appeared walking up the stairs leading to the church's basement. He jogged over to Lindsey.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Lindsey hissed.

“Trying to help,” Brandon said quietly. He tried to put a hand on her shoulder but Lindsey shrugged him off.

Yes. Yes. Fight you blue bastards. I kept my mouth shut, and shuffled a bit closer to Celeste.

“Brandon you only think you are helping because you are rock stupid, I don’t give a shit about her situation,” Wilson said shaking his head, “What about you Grace.”

“I only care for results,” Grace answered. “Lindsey needs to learn to take direction. What punishment do you want, Wilson?”

Brandon and Lindsey froze. Denise stepped further away from them. She was dangerously close to sidling up to Celeste and me.

Wilson considered. He tilted his head to one side, “Hmmmm.” He pursed his lips, “Hmmmmmmm.” leaned back on the bench, “Hmmmmmmmmmmm!”

“Stop pretending to be a buffoon,” Grace said.

“Fine, fun hater,” Wilson grumbled. An orange traffic cone appeared in his hand, a piece of paper with the words, ‘dumb bitch cheating loser’ written on it. “Wear the hat.”

“Why?” Grace asked. She was suspicious of the clearly nonlethal outcome.

“Because every second of every day she has to wear that hat she will know” Wilson turned to Lindsey, “That I made her wear it. That I can make her do what I want.” He turned back to Grace, “So will everyone that sees her wearing it.” His grin was full on shiteating.

Lindsey marched slowly to Wilson. When she reached for the hat Wilson moved his hand. Lindsey glared and tried to snatch the traffic cone

“Oh! Ope! Oop! Take the hat!” Wilson taunted as he continued to juke her attempts.

“Enough!” Grace almost shouted.

Wait. Grace has actual emotions…?

Lindsey took the hat and placed it on her head. The traffic cone was too tall and she needed to either stand perfectly straight or hold it with a hand. She clearly tried to do some sort of Narrator fuckery to hold the hat in place, but it didn’t work. She caught the cone and Glared at Wilson.

He grinned back.

“Are we done here?” Grace demanded

“Nope, I have questions about my experience being withheld,” I said.

Grace glared at me.

I once again wondered if looks could kill. So far they hadn’t but I had been surprised before, mostly by snow lions. I could tell she was doing mental math about killing me.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Grace finished her computing, “That is a matter between you and your Narrator.”

“Okay. Denise and I can just talk though this ourselves unsupervised,” I declared, trying to sound helpful.

“Exactly,” Wilson agreed. He then played the da-da-da-da, da-da charge! Music sting on the organ.

“Wait! Shouldn’t this be something with full arbitration?” Brandon said. When everyone looked at him, “I mean his next level will have an Edge and that will impact everything that happens next. He could trivialize the next…” he stopped talking. “I mean.. That is to say.”

“Lindsey already leaked spoilers just talk,” Wilson told him.

Lindsey glared at Wilson. Then at me before settling her ire on Brandon. Then the cone fell off her head and she had to pick it up.

“Depending on the Edge he takes he could completely trivialize the next fight. I must insist that this matter go to arbitration. The margin for error is too small.” Brandon said.

“And you think your involvement will decrease error?” I asked.

“Hey I don’t bust your balls,” Brandon whined. The Narrator who was actively meddling in my life whined to me. What a stupid prick.

“Doug makes a good point though,” WIlson said, texting on his phone. “Brandon is a sloppy soup-sandwich.”

Grace didn’t deny that, “Arbitration does require all invested parts.”

“Fine, I pinged Marge,” Wilson said, putting his phone away.

We were in the conference room.

“Hey Doug,” Spine said with a wave. He was sitting next to Marge. Marge was puffing on a blunt that was comically overlarge. It was like four rope-like cigars braided together. The scent was unreal.

Wilson took his seat at the head of the table, he patted the chair next to him, “Angel”

If Wilson’s bullshit bothered Celeste, she wasn’t showing it. I sat next to Celeste and Denise was between me and Spine.

“Do you have a nickname?” Spine asked Denise

“No,” She told him shortly.

“Yeah, she does,” Marge said as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Denise’s nickname is Timid Bitch.”

Lindsey laughed as she sat down.

“You think that is funny Dumb Bitch?” Marge asked, eyeing Lindsey’s hat.

Lindsey stopped laughing.

“Do I have a nickname?” Brandon asked.

“Everyone calls you dumb,” Marge said, taking another puff.

“You’re a mean drunk,” Brandon muttered.

“I am high, not drunk. Also you should see me sober,” Marge said before blowing a cloud of smoke in his face.

Brandon coughed, “you’re more mean?”

“The word is meaner, and no I’ma fuckin’ delight,” Marge claimed.

Wilson drummed his hands on the table, “Alright enough banter. Doug, here, thinks the block on his Xp should be removed.”

“The claims to hold my XP were about Ri-Enkidu and I meeting and talking, and Adora wanted me to have sex with someone. Both those tickets should be cleared,” I said.

“So you claim,” Lindsey said. That was an odd counter argument.

“I was there too,” Celeste said. She smiled and added “Vidi, Veni.” Holy shit. She makes jokes in latin. She is so out of my league.”

“We need Narrator confirmation for such things,” Grace said.

Everyone looked at Denise.

“I can confirm that…” Denise stopped and swallowed something down. “That Doug and the players Angelica and Celeste…” a haunted look washed over her face. “That they…” Denise cleared her throat. “That-,” She almost retched.

Wilson shook his head, “What Denise is trying to say is that Doug to the pounding pull to Tuna Town, and she saw everything,”

Ew. What a terrible way to describe things.

Celeste snorted, “Tuna town? That is the term of a man who never had sex with a woman.”

“I mean I never saw the point in nailing any of you players. Sure in these communicative forms we have are compatible, but you folks are set up dumb. It is kinda funny actually.” Wilson said, chuckling slightly. “The dumb shit you people think is erotic.”

“Wait, you guys don’t look like this?” I asked, pointing in Wilson’s general direction.

“Nah, don’t worry about the specifics. This is just so we are more approachable, and so you folks can anthropomorphize us.” He said gesturing toward himself. He leaned back, “Hence why I don’t care to go to tuna town or bop the bologna but will do some truly violent things for Narrussy.”

I hated that term, and the statement around it, and Wilson, and Narrators in general, and let’s not forget Snow Lions. I despised those damn cats. I really need to write the Dog Lover’s Manifesto.

“Let’s focus on the issue at hand,” Grace cut in.

Wilson leaned forward again, “Fine, Blueberry Pie. Anyone object to Doug getting his XP.”

Brandon raised his hand.

“Of course I object,” Lindsey said.

Everyone looked to Grace. She was studying me again, “I must insist we continue to withhold XP. This Spawn already requires too much attention.

“I- uh disagree,” Denise started. She paused for a beat and continued more forcefully, “Doug, does not require the micromanaging that is being used. He is going to the tower and will cause the desired fight. Our other midpoint conflicts are guaranteed to happen as well. Less intervention would be better. Things are progressing organically.”

“You call a random fucking dragon crashing out of the sky organic? Then you have them bumbling face first into a dead town with no telegraphing? This is sloppy as hell.”

“The um vibe I have been trying to build for Doug’s travel is meant to call to the other human travel stories like Homer’s the Odyssey. Random things occur in a living world.” Denise explained.

“That is so stupid. You’re pulling from the Simpsons?” Lindsey scoffed.

“I mean that show has a lot of content to draw from,” Brandon pointed out.

I burst out laughing.

“What?” Lindsey demanded.

I kept laughing.

Denise nudged me. “Doug, this is serious.”

“Lindsey thinks Homer Simpson wrote the Odyssey.” I said pointing as I continued to laugh.

“Didn’t he?” Brandon asked.

“No,” Grace said.

“That’s why they have those nicknames,” Marge stage whispered to Spine.

Spine kept his mouth shut.

“Who cares who wrote the movie?” Lindsey demanded.

“Epic Poem,” I corrected.

“It doesn’t matter!” Lindsey shrieked.

“Yeah, it’s not like your job depends on understanding our cultural touchstones and motivations,” I shot back.

Lindsey sputtered. She was so angry she seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

Denise nudged me again, “Doug, stop.”

“Yeah knock it off,” Wilson scolded.

Everyone stared at him confused.

He shrugged, “I like seeing people fight. This is just him murdering her by words.”

Lindsey was shaking in rage. Her blue skin was turning a lighter shade of blue. She was blushing. That was upsettingly human. Don’t get me wrong, I didn't regret anything. Lindsey was trying to kill me and working to control everyone on earth. Fuck Narrators in general and her in particular.

Brandon put a hand on Lindsey’s shoulder, “Ignore them. I think you are smart.”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Lindsey screamed in rage and then coldcocked Brandon. She then seized the front of his shirt and hip threw him onto the table. She wrapped her hands around his throat. As she strangled him she bounced his head on the table.

As Brandon’s head thunk-thunk-thunked on the solid wood a couple of things happened. Spine slid back from the table. Marge started cackling and began to film Lindsey’s assault with her phone. I nodded in satisfaction. I expected my goading to provoke Lindsey against me. I figured I could withstand it, and then Wilson would use that as an excuse to kill Lindsey. That would chip away at Grace’s power and force her to more directly oppose Wilson. This was dangerous but I felt it in my bones that Grace and Wilson in conflict was my best path for actually helping others.

Celeste was completely unbothered by Brandon’s beating. She poured herself a glass of water and took a small sip.

Wilson had locked eyes with Grace. They watched each other both waiting for the other to make a move. Neither willing to expose a moment’s weakness.

“Doug she is going to kill him,” Denise told me.

“Yep,” I agreed.

“We need to do something,” Denise hissed.

I pulled a bone dagger out of my inventory and set it in front of Denise, “Do what you got to do but you should go for the eyes.” I was a little surprised my inventory worked.

“You need to do something to stop this,” Denise almost pleaded.

“Won’t there be consequences,” Celeste asked her.

“I’ll take responsibility,” Denise promised.

Celeste shrugged, “I am acting on behalf of Denise.” She then grabbed Lindsey’s hair and chucked her across the room.

Lindsey shrieked in surprise and pain. Brandon also went for a ride as well. His attacker had quite the kung fu grip. They did separate midair though. Lindsey smacked into the wall hard and hung there stuck for a moment before sliding down to the floor. Brandon hit the floor and slid face first across the carpet.

“I am okay,” Brandon managed.

“I don’t care,” Wilson assured him.

“Get back to the table, both of you,” Grace ordered, still watching Wilson.

Once everyone was at the table Marge said, “I think it would be funny to let the Titan Spawn level. Otherwise he needs to do more with his god stuff.”

“God stuff?” I asked.

Marge nodded, “You meet the requirements to be a god. Pitch to the goblins to follow you. If you get enough you could have the Goblin purview. That shit would get hilarious.”

“I don’t think anyone would take that offer,” Spine said.

“That’s the drama,” Marge told him. She exhaled another cloud of smoke, “The thing is though. God’s have to follow the dictates of their purview or bad things happen. If you get him connected to the Goblin Purview as a people…”

Spine didn’t seem convinced.

“What a twist, an even tie,” Wilson said, still laser focused on Grace. He just sat there with a wicked grin twisting his face.

“Do I have to say it?” Grace asked unimpressed.

“You saying it is a huge part of it for me.,” Wilson said.

“Fine, let’s just roll a die and let that decide it.” Grace said in her emotionless monotone.

Wilson was quiet for a long time. He just sat there basking in some little victory. Eventually he spoke, his voice shaking slightly with satisfaction, “Doug, odd or even?”

“What?” I asked.

“Odd or even?” Wilson repeated in his normal voice a d6 in his hand.

“Odd,” I said. I Immediately regretted my choice.

Wilson tossed the die onto the table. I rolled along the wood clattering loudly. It slowed and settled on a six,.

Wilson shrugged, “Oh well. Tough Titties, Doug. You don’t get to level until after the tower. Have fun with what happens next. You should have listened to me and Grace earlier. What happens next is your fault. ”

We were back in the church. Angelica blinked as Celeste caught her up.

Something in the basement stirred. The sound of slow, unhurried footsteps approached the stairs.

Someone was coming.