“You’re sure you can get it open?” Fergus the fighter asked.

“Of course,” Roger the halfling rogue said, “It’s just an ancient dwarven lock, with an entire mountain set to crush us. I’ve opened locks plenty of times.”

“You sure you don’t want some blessings?” Claire the cleric asked, “My goddess is very generous.”

“For the last time,” the fighter said, “We’re saving those for whatever’s hidden inside the tomb.”

“I hope the gold hasn’t rusted,” Barnabus the half-ork barbarian said.

“Gold doesn’t rust,” Winslow the wizard explained.

“Really?” Blake the elven bard asked.

“Almost got it,” the rogue said, making teeny motions with his lock picks, “Almost got it… And, there!”

A *Click!* echoed through the massive, ruined tomb, followed by loud rumbling.

“I’m sure that’s just-” the fighter said.

…

From miles and miles away, dwarven soldiers watched an entire mountain shift a short distance downward, falling with a roar of thunder and kicking up a massive dust cloud. Birds scattered with shrieking caws, and King Boulderbeard let out a muted cough.

“Well,” the king said, “Shame about them, but it sounds like our problem is solved. The world weeps at their passing.”

“Eh, they’re adventurers,” one of the troops grumbled, “They’ll be back.”

…

The fighter, wizard, barbarian, rogue, cleric and bard stood assembled before a goddess, one that the cleric was engaged in a shouting match with.

“Uh, excuse me!” the cleric snarled, “Where exactly is my goddess? The one I’ve served faithfully my entire life? I don’t remember some divine hussy like you showing up in any of my scriptures!”

“Weren’t you raised to respect divinity?” the goddess demanded.

“Pfft, hah!” the cleric jeered, “I was raised to respect my divinity! Gods, dark and old alike, have fallen beneath my faith, their evil servants beaten into the dirt by my hammer! Respect! If I respected any of them, they’d still live!”

“Listen here you scrawny, stupid elf,” the goddess said, “If you don’t shut up now, I will blast you into cosmic dust!”

“Empty threats,” the cleric taunted.

“The reason I’m here, if any of you would actually listen,” the goddess said, “Is to tell you that across the cosmos, a world is in dire need of your help.”

“Wait!” the fighter said, slapping a gloved hand over the cleric’s mouth, “You have a quest for us?”

“Well why didn’t you just say so?” the cleric asked, all smiles as she wrestled off the fighter, “It would be my honor to assist in divine workings.”

“Really, just say that from the start,” the barbarian said, “Now, what’s the pay?”

“I have been authorized to grant each of you a wish,” the goddess said, “It can be- wait, you don’t want to know what the job is first?”

“Job schmob,” the fighter said, “What’s the pay?”

“One wish upon accepting the job,” the goddess said, “And one wish upon completion.”

“Do we keep our stuff?” the barbarian asked.

“What? No! You’re all dead,” the goddess said,”Besides, you know how the saying goes: You can’t take it with you.”

“Hold up,” the bard said, “We spent a lot of time getting that stuff.”

“Yeah,” the wizard agreed, “There are a lot of very powerful magical items under that mountain. Each of them, crucial to our success as adventurers.”

“Then you shouldn’t have died,” the goddess said, “You’re reincarnating, you don’t get to keep your things.”

“I wish I could,” the fighter said.

“Well tough luck,” the goddess said, “You’re dead, and-”

“No no,” the fighter interrupted, “I wish I could keep all my stuff. That’s my wish.”

“What?” the goddess said.

“That’s my wish too,” the barbarian said.

“Seconded,” the cleric said.

“Thirded,” the wizard said, “The barbarian was second.”

“Oh, sorry,” the cleric said, “Thirded.”

“Really, why would we not wish for that,” the bard said, “Otherwise, we’d have to wish for clothes or something.”

“This is the most valuable wish,” the rogue agreed, “I think it’s safe to say we’re all wishing for our stuff.”

“Alright, then we’re on the clock,” the fighter said, “There’s gold and glory to be won. Send us in.”

“Do you want to know anything about where you’re going?” the goddess asked.

“Ye-” the wizard said.

“No!” the cleric said, “Wizard, that’d be a wish.”

“Really?” the wizard asked.

“No,” the goddess said, “It would be freely offered information.”

“Don’t listen to her,” the cleric said, “Listen, I’m our expert on religion, undead, and healing. I know what I’m talking about. It’d be a wish, genies have done this to us before.”

“Good point,” the rogue said.

“Cleric, normally I’d agree with you” the wizard said, “But the trouble is we’re being reincarnated in a different plane. What if there’s no magic there?”

“Ooh, that’d be a problem,” the cleric agreed.

“There is magic there,” the goddess said, “Well, there is some magic there.”

“Aw crud,” the wizard said, “Bard, you need to wish for my stuff.”

“What? What about my stuff?” the bard complained.

“Listen, we each only get one wish, and fighter, barbarian, cleric and rogue already wished for their stuff,” the wizard explained, “The problem is that I can’t cast magic without my spellbook, and I also can’t cast spells without the magic native to our home plane. I need two wishes, one for native magic and one for my stuff, so I need you to wish for my stuff.”

“Alright fine,” the bard said, rolling her eyes, “I wish for the wizard’s stuff and a set of clothes.”

“I wasn’t going to send you in naked anyway,” the goddess said.

“Wait, really?” the cleric asked, “That’s how everyone gets sent in. Why wouldn’t you do that?”

“Do what?” the goddess demanded, “What are you talking about.”

“Nobody is born clothed,” the cleric said, “You said we were being reincarnated, so why wouldn’t we be naked?”

“That’s so-” the goddess said, “Listen, you’re also keeping your bodies and brains. If the plan was to send newborns at the problem, why would we bother with adventurers? I could have picked anyone if that was the case.”

“I wish that I generated the same arcane power native to my home dimension, in quantities great enough to cast all my spells,” the wizard said.

“Yes, fine,” the goddess said, opening a portal to the new world, “Your magic will still work there.”

“It will now,” the wizard said.

“Alright team, we’re heading through,” the fighter said, marching into the portal.

“But you don’t even-” the goddess said, mouth agape as the adventurers charged into the portal.

“-Know what we’re doing,” the wizard said, “Where is this place?”

“This place” was a long abandoned highway, separated down the middle with faded yellow paint. Two sets of grooves had been worn into the highway from constant use, and the edge of the pavement had been cracked apart by tall grasses. The road continued from one end of the horizon to the other, with treetops visible in the distance.

“Look, wizard, we’re professionals. We know what we’re doing,” the fighter said.

“We do?” the barbarian asked.

“Yes, we’re doing the same thing we’re always doing,” the fighter said, “Evil lurks somewhere on this plane, we’re being sent in to kill it. Cleric, find us some evil.”

“On it, boss,” the cleric said. While the cleric went through the chants and rituals to call on her goddess’ guidance, the bard busied herself with refitting the clothes she had been granted and wondering what awful material this was made from. Dark blue pants that didn’t stretch, and a plain white t-shirt? The bard was a bard, style was important to her.

“Thataway!” the cleric said, pointing off towards the forest. The adventurers marched off towards the forest, grumbling and arguing as they went.