As there was no conversation at the moment, Topher took the opportunity to get drink orders for the table. “You kids want anything? We’ll probably have ale, but get whatever you want.”

The tall teen - Kryx, as he had identified himself - didn’t break away from Kevin’s seething stare. “No thanks,” he said.

The other teen, Linore, turned to Topher with a smile. “Ale sounds good. We’ll take some.”

Kryx’s focus broke. “No alcohol when discussing business,” he said quietly.

“We’re building rapport,” she said.

“But you hate ale…” She smacked him. “Alright, I’ll take one.”

“You don’t have to join in for our sake,” said Jenn. “We’re not the type of people to say ‘you’re just like us or you’re out.’”

Topher nodded. “Yeah, and don’t worry about Kevin here - he’s only glaring at you because he’s super racist towards humans.”

“Oh…. Sorry, but I thought one of your party was human,” said Linore.

“Exactly!” Topher raised a finger. “Why do you think he left him behind? —Ouch!”

Kevin removed his heel from Topher’s toes. “You said this was business? What did you mean?”

“Yes. An assignment, actually.” Kryx looked to Linore, who removed a pendant and placed it on the table.

Kevin glared at it. “…Where did you get that?”

“We picked it up,” said Linore. “It tells us—“

“Our location,” Kevin finished the thought for her. “Or, more specifically, my location, I presume?”

Linore nodded. “It took a strand of hair to make, I’m told. Your's was the most distinct. Easiest to find.”

“Ahh,” Topher let out in a long drawl. “One of the few disadvantages of being a redhead, huh? Huh?” He grinned wildly at the teens, who looked back at him, confused. Kevin took the opportunity to swipe the pendant.

Without looking away from Topher, Kryx clamped down on Kevin’s hand mid-grab. “That’s not yours,” he said.

Kevin showed no sign of pain or weakness. “It’s my hair,” he said. “And that’s my hand.”

“Kryx,” scolded Linore. “Now’s not the time for establishing hierarchies. We want a friendly relationship, remember?”

Kryx didn’t let him go. “And we’re just supposed to let them steal from us?”

“This pendant was Captain Minerva’s,” said Kevin. “Did you steal it from her?”

Linore squeezed Kryx’s arm. When he turned to look at her, she made it clear that she wasn’t pleased. “No, we didn’t steal it,” said Kryx, releasing Kevin. “And you can put your dagger away.”

Kevin did so, stowing the pendant, as well. “Then how’d you get it?”

“From an evidence locker. She’s been incarcerated for abusing rank and misusing the military of Colme.”

Jenn harrumphed. “Finally, some good news.”

“Why did you take it?” asked Topher. “Why are you here bothering poor, racist Kevin?”

“When the captain failed her mission, Master Everan had us take over for her,” said Linore.

“So you’re going to take us to Rikston?” asked Kevin.

She rummaged through her pack and produced a scrollcase. “Well, first I have to tell you that you’re all absolved of any crimes you committed in and around the areas north of Rikston, as of several days ago.” She handed the scroll to Kevin. “That’s it in writing, signed by the Office of High Consul for the region.

“The second thing is, yes, we’re to help you get to Rikston. Master Gerard said that telling adventurers to go somewhere was a sure way to get them to go the opposite direction, so he told us to make sure that you know that we’re only asking you to come, and that they have a reward for you for saving their friend’s baby.”

“Baby?” said Jenn. “They know Marisa?”

“I think they know the father more; Brance Deralin,” said Kryx.

Topher perked up. “Hey, maybe they know what happened to him. Be nice to cross that off the to-do list.”

Kevin finished reading the pardon. “We were heading to Rikston after finishing up some stuff here, anyway. We won’t need your company.”

“What stuff?” asked Linore. “We could help.”

Jenn took the scroll from Kevin. “But we don’t need to stay here now, do we? We can just leave when Jack gets back, and tell higher authorities what’s been happening.”

“Hardly an adventurer thing to do,” snorted Topher.

“And that’s if we can trust this pardon,” said Kevin. “Whatever it is that’s going on, we know it reaches the upper echelons. Who’s to say this piece of paper isn’t just paper.”

Topher made a face. “Wow. Jack’s not here, but it sounds like he has a proxy.”

The corners of Kevin’s mouth twitch up ever-so-slightly. “Right now I’m exhausted and in a bad mood - the hallmarks of his mindset.”

Kryx and Linore exchanged worried glances. “I… don’t know what’s going on,” said Linore, “but if there’s something that ‘reaches the upper echelons’, and you can’t trust the High Consul, then let me tell you that you can trust Masters Everan and Gerard - they have a lot of influence, of course, but they aren’t a part of the political sphere.”

“Why do you trust them?” asked Topher. “Who are they?”

The teens were taken aback. “I… you don’t know?” asked Kryx.

“Not from around here,” shrugged Topher.

“We trust them because we’re their students,” said Linore, who recovered more quickly than the other. “We’re Master Gerard’s proteges.” She turned to Kryx. “And it’s okay if they haven’t heard of them.”

“But they saved Dungeonia—Hells, the world, when it comes down to it,” said Kryx. “How far away do you have to be from to not know them?”

“Guess you’re not as important as you like to think you are,” said Kevin.

Kryx rose, gripping the edge of the table. “Watch it, elf.”

Linore slapped him. “Kryx! Not the time, not the place!” She looked to Jenn for solidarity. “Boys!”

With just a smile, Jenn managed to say that she was sympathetic, and that it never gets better.

Kryx lowered himself back to his seat. “You can trust Master Gerard,” he said, eyes unwavering. “If you’re worried about those in power, we can go directly to our school - we can even avoid all the guards. Heck, we can even sneak you into the city, if that’s what you need.”

“I’m not going to trust anything you say,” said Kevin. “You almost got me killed tonight.”

“Killed?” said Topher. “Seriously?”

Kevin leaned back, arms folded. “They marched into the circus and told everyone exactly where I was. Carnies came from out the freaking woodwork. Did these two try anything to stop them? No! If they’re not out to kill us, then they’re just morons.” He thrust a finger down on the table. “Do you know how many crossbow bolts I had to dodge? I stopped counting after twenty.”

“They shot at you?” asked Jenn.

“That’s… some intense security for a circus performance,” said Topher.

Kevin pulled his finger back, tapping it nervously.

“…Something wrong?” prodded Kryx.

Kevin glowered at him, then shifted his eyes back down. “It… wasn’t actually a performance.”

The table fell silent. All focus was on him.

“…It was a slave auction.”

Jenn and Kryx broke into surprised outrage, Topher rolled his eyes in a sigh, and Linore merely slumped her shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Jenn. “Did he tell you?” She looked at Topher, who shook his head. She stood. “We’ve got to stop this. This is….”

“Jenn, sit down,” ordered Kevin. “That’s why I didn’t tell you - what if you just decided to charge in?”

Jenn tried to burn him away with her stare. “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

Kevin swallowed. “I’m saying I trusted that you would do the right thing.”

“Oh, that’s…” Jenn stamped a foot then sat back down. Her head zipped to Topher. “Remember what you asked before? I’ve changed my mind.”

Topher made a terrible approximation of jazz hands. “Hooray for Jack. Speaking of, Kevin, you’re telling us you left him in the middle of a criminal operation?”

Kevin threw his head back, exasperated. “Yes! Of course I did! We needed information on the Consul’s wrongdoings, and Jack was the one to get it. I kept in contact with him, and he never once said, or even hinted, that he needed help. When I told him I had to go, he didn’t respond - that meant that he was under too close of observation to get away with saying anything, which meant that he hadn’t blown his cover. We all agreed that we wouldn’t run in unless Jack specifically said he needed us to. The only reason I had to run was because these idiots,” he flicked his wrist at the teens, “ran in without thinking. And you,” he jabbed a finger towards Jenn, “you were the one who said on our very first day that Jack was smart, and competent, and could handle himself. Well, I took that to heart and figured he’d be fine on his own. Oh, and don’t think I didn’t notice that you two were here at the inn before I was - the carnies probably told you to leave and prodded you along, didn’t they? Do you have an excuse for abandoning him?”

No one said anything.

“That’s what I thought,” said Kevin. “Now, security’s going to be too on edge and watchful to go back tonight, but it’s not a big deal. Jack knows we’re not there, and he’s not going to do anything stupid in the meantime. We can just wait until he manages to slip away, then we can skip off into the sunset with the Hogwarts rejects here. Whatever.”

Linore tried to figure out if anyone knew what Hogwarts was, then gave up. “So you trust us, then?” she asked.

Jenn spoke before Kevin could. “Yes, we’ll trust you. We—“ She was cut off by yelling outside. They all looked as the inn doors slammed open, a wide-eyed man taking half a step inside.

“The Consul’s been murdered!” he yelled before running back into the street.

The group froze. A shared sinking feeling pulled them into silence.

Kevin slammed the table. “Fuck!”

*******

The moon, only a sliver, peeked cautiously through the trees. There was a similar moon the first time Voeg was topside. He’d been enamored with the night sky for all his years since, often finding a small piece of it on the peripheral of his dreams. He felt it a shame that this was his second, and likely last, trip to the surface.

He removed the vial from his necklace. “Now then,” he growled. “Where are we going?”

The vial explained the layout of the area around Colme, mentioning the camps off each of the roads. It then mentioned that the north camp - at which they currently were - and the west camp were eliminated.

“Eliminated?” said Hak’Thath, his warg mouth having trouble with the flow of syllables (it was a particularly tricky word in the goblin language). “All of them? By surfacers?”

The vial confirmed - north by adventurers, west by fireball. A very big fireball, it added.

“So word will have spread,” said Voeg. “They’ll be on alert for goblins. Are you sure you don’t know the layout of these tunnels?”

The vial apologized.

“Then we travel only at night, breaking from trees to trees. Bring the rest up here and make sure they’re ready to run.”

“Voeg,” said Hak’Thath. “Should we leave a group underground to scout the tunnels?”

The goblin hero chewed his lower lip. He tilted his head back, bringing his eyes up to rest on the moon. “No,” he said. “Get them all up here. Let everyone enjoy the night sky.”

*******

Everything was black. I opened my eyes. Still black.

My body was lying on hard stone, and had been for a while if the pain in my back was any indication. I brought my hands up to my face, discovering that I wasn’t blindfolded. Sliding them down to my neck, I found the cool metal of my collar still in place. My magical limb was still unresponsive. I went to check for any other kinds of chains or restraints, but jumped at the sound of skittering claws. Probably a rat. Hopefully just a normal one.

“Good, you’re awake,” came a girl’s voice.

“Yep. Am I blind, or is it dark?” I asked, sitting up. “Or both?”

“It’s dark,” said the girl. “I hope your eyes are fine.” I nodded in agreement. There was the sound of nervous finger tapping. “You really did say you were from the real world, right? I didn’t just go crazy then?”

“Toledo, Ohio. The Glass City. Wishing I had my smartphone and car.” I could hear her sigh of relief without much trouble. “I’m Jack, if I didn’t mention it earlier.”

“You did,” she said. “I’m Alice. From New York.”

“Alice. I’m very glad I’m not by myself right now, Alice.”

“…Me too, Jack.”

I smiled at the darkness and stood up, just to see if I could. “So! You’re an elf, right? You should have darkvision, then. Can you tell me where we are?”

“In a cell, underground. I’m… guessing you play Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Oh, yes. I’m a full-on nerd. Or maybe geek. I can never remember which one I am. Maybe it’s both.” Why was I talking like that? I told myself to stop being an idiot. “This whole thing is definitely a first for me, though.”

“So… you don’t know how to get home.”

Her voice was so forlorn, it hurt to hear. My lips tightened into a frown. “I know the first step is getting out of here.” She stayed quiet. All I heard was a distant skitter. “How did we get here? How long was I out? The last thing I remember…” I searched my brain. “Was Heller, standing in front of me at the circus tent. He’d just put both of us in a Hold Person spell. Wait, is that it? I don’t remember being hit in the head, or him casting anything else. How’d I get knocked out?”

“I don’t know,” said Alice. “We were separated for a while. I was hit on the head, and when I woke up, we were here.”

“Your head? Are you alright? You don’t have a concussion, do you? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two. I’m fine.”

My head wasn’t hurting that much, so I probably wasn’t bludgeoned unconscious. The only thing I could think of was the Modify Memory spell, which made me worry about why they would make me forget whatever it was they did to me.

Best to move on. “Well, I have friends outside who’ll hopefully come looking for me, but I don’t like the idea of waiting around for them.”

“Friends from the real world?”

“Yeah. We made our characters together.” I was hesitant to know the answer to the next question. “Did you… come here with other people?”

She was quiet for a bit. “…I did. There were four of us. I’m… the only one left.”

“I was afraid of that. I’m sorry.”

There was the telltale short, heavy breathing of holding back tears.

“Whoa, hey, come on now.” I moved carefully towards the sound, kneeling down to it when I got close. I reached for her as best I could without poking an eye out. She was warm to the touch. “I’m guessing you haven’t played much D&D, huh?”

There was a quick sniffle, but she didn’t say anything.

“…If you’re shaking your head, I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, right.” A brief stammer of levity. “No, I haven’t.”

“I see. So you don’t know about Resurrection magic.”

All sounds of crying stopped. “…Does that mean what I think it means?”

“As in ‘bringing the dead back to life.’ Full-on Jesus and Lazarus. Or Neo and Trinity—whatever. As a bard, I’ll get access to that magic. One of my friends, Jenn, is a cleric; she’ll be able to use it too. You’re a paladin, right? Eventually you’ll even get limited forms of it.”

“So you’re saying…”

“That we can bring your friends back to life, exactly as they were. It’ll take time, and it’ll be expensive, but it’s entirely within our potential as adventurers to accomplish. D&D is about growing beyond the muddling obstacles that plagued you before, and death is just another one of those obstacles - just like overland travel, finding a safe place to sleep, and…” I stood up. “…jail cells. Now, I can pick the lock if we can find some approximation of thieves’ tools.“

“You’re sure we can bring them back?”

“As I can be,” I smiled. “We’ll bring them back and find a way home. But like I said, step one is finding a way out of here.”

“The cell isn’t locked.”

I froze. “It’s not…?”

“No. I checked and the door opens. I kept it closed because there are some really big rats outside.”

“Have you searched around? Is there an exit close by?”

“No, I wasn’t going to leave you by yourself. There’s a hallway, but I can’t see where it leads. …What is it? You look worried.”

There were too many unknowns to be sure of what they were trying to do. They might’ve wanted to watch us escape so they could see where we’d go, but that was unlikely, seeing as a clever use of the Modify Memory spell could’ve told them that. It was possible this entire place was our jail, but then why not just dump us at the entrance?

They kept us alive, so they must’ve wanted something from us. Probably not information. Slave labor? Maybe, but I imagine we’d have been in chains like the other slaves I saw. Bait for my friends? Again, why not keep us in chains, or lock the cell? What did they want us for?

I clenched my jaw. The last likely answer was entertainment. They’d dropped us here, left the door open, and dared us to get out. They wanted us to run around in the dark with no weapons and no magic. They wanted us to have the slightest glimmer of hope that we could get out.

But watching us wander around empty corridors wouldn’t be fun. If this situation was what I thought it was, then they’d want to see us suffer and die in horrible, anguishing, and - dare I say - creative ways. When a place in D&D is specifically designed to torment and kill off the players without any sense of fair play, it’s called a Funhouse Dungeon. They’re fun for DMs, but only fun for players if they go in knowing they’re using disposable characters, ones they don’t mind getting killed off.

And I imagined we were both rather attached to our characters.

“…Jack? What’s wrong?”

I forced a smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t handle,” I lied.