“What’s a summoner?”
“A type of magic-user: one who can bring beings from other dimensions through sheer force of will. Usually, they summon creatures of myth, bind them to their will, and send them off to do stuff. What sucks is that, every so often, a summoner gets killed in the middle of a summoning. Their power goes wild. And sometimes, someone gets plucked (at random) from another dimension.”
“I woke up on a battlefield a few hours ago,” Donna said softly as they reached the halfway point of the shallow creek. “There were all types of dead guys and creatures around me.”
“The Kiltarim have the best summoners around. Odds were one of them got killed and his/her power dragged you here.”
As they reached the other side of the creek, Ruiz tensed and then ducked as he spun around. If he hadn’t ducked as he turned, a crimson arrow would’ve slammed through his forehead. Donna shrieked with surprise as she spotted four Kiltarim archers on the other side of the creek, three with bows drawn and one quickly notching another arrow against his bow. One of them imperiously yelled at Ruiz. Donna figured that the bastards had them dead-to-rights and were ordering them to surrender.
“What do we do now –?” Donna started to ask.
Somehow, Ruiz had already drawn his own bow, notched it with two gray arrows and released them. He moved so fast that even the archers were surprised. The two gray arrows hit the muddy earth at their feet and exploded with a bright flash of white light. A gray mist erupted from the arrows, engulfed all four archers, and began to melt them alive. Even their clothing and weapons melted away like candle wax.
But one of the archers got a shot off before the mist killed him.
The stray arrow would’ve punched through Donna’s heart … had Ruiz not caught it with his left hand. He admired the arrow’s craftsmanship for a moment, notched it in his bow, and casually put it through the melting skull of the archer who had loosed it. Donna figured the gesture to be redundant, seeing as all seven of the dead Kiltarim were soon reduced to ash – along with their weapons and gear. A sudden breeze was already blowing all evidence of their existence into the creek.
“Better living through modern alchemy,” Ruiz said.
“Tell me there’s a way off this crazy world!” Donna pleaded.
“Of course there is,” Ruiz replied with sarcastic optimism. “A giant mystical mirror’s hidden away in a heavily-guarded temple, in the middle of Kiltarim-occupied territory. It lets you go anywhere you want to go – for the right price. The pricks offered to let me use it if I fought for them in the War.”
“Why didn’t you?!” Donna asked with disbelief.
Ruiz eyed her for a moment.
“The Free Realms need me here,” Ruiz replied. “If the Kiltarim win, they’ll kill every non-Kiltarim they can find –”
“All the more reason to get out of here!” Donna yelled. “If that battlefield’s any indicator, the good guys are losing!”
“Not if I can help it,” Ruiz said with steel in his voice.
“Is there any other way to get home?”
“Not that I know of,” he replied.
“Then where is this mirror/gate?” Donna stubbornly asked. “Give me directions and I’ll go there on my own!”
Ruiz eyed the co-ed like she had lost her mind.
“It’s about … three thousand miles that way,” Ruiz pointed eastward. “Good luck. Try not to get eaten.”
Ruiz headed north. Tears of frustration welled in Donna’s eyes. She wiped them away and fought the rising urge to cuss Ruiz out.
“What happens if I tag along with you?”
“You’ll probably live a bit longer,” Ruiz replied as he stopped and turned her way. “And if you’re interested, I’ll teach you everything I know.”
Donna glanced back at the Kiltarim he had killed. There was nothing left of them.
“What’s the catch?” Donna asked.
“You work for me,” Ruiz replied. “You do what I say, when I say it. Whenever you feel ready to look up that temple, you’re free to go. Hell! I’ll even pack you a hot lunch.”
Donna allowed herself a grin as she sized up her savior.
“So I get to be your sidekick, huh?”
“Nah. That sounds pretty lame. How about… my intern? You’re a student anyway, so the title works. And if you make it back, you’ll have some useful job skills.”
Donna rolled her eyes at Ruiz’s warped sense of humor.
“And if we win this war, what then? You’ll go home too?”
“I might be persuaded to go back,” Ruiz replied. “I left a pregnant girlfriend behind – back in ’92. She was about … two months’ pregnant at the time? I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“Then your kid’s what? Eighteen by now?”
“Yep,” Ruiz replied sadly as he turned to leave. “C’mon. I’ve got to report in on what I saw in that tent. And with any luck, General Guldaan won’t survive that poison I slipped in his favorite wine.”
Donna followed Ruiz, sadly wondering what year it will be on Earth when she got back (if she got back).
Vick, Pete, Les, Wade, and Carlos sat around the tiny Ann Arbor apartment on a wintery Friday night, immersed in a rousing game of Mystic Knights: Quest of the Undamned. Pete and Carlos were chubby gaming geeks. Les and Wade were of the skinny variety of gaming geek. Vick was the only one who looked fit enough to do a few push-ups. While handsome and sufficiently athletic to earn a track scholarship to U of M, he was a closet gaming geek as well.
He sat propped against an old couch, a thick sourcebook in his lap and a pair of black-and-red ten-sided dice in hand. As the Game Master, his role was to set up a fantasy campaign for the others. Based on the twelve-book stack of Mystic Knights sourcebooks at his left, Vick had come up with a vicious campaign.
The others were playing mystical characters hired to take out a pirate fleet which had been terrorizing a group of remote islands. Vick was running them through a string of violent encounters, during which they’d slowly figure out that the pirates were seeking a sacred weapon which had been hidden among these islands. With said weapon, they could either conquer or destroy the world.
“So, how many pirates are left on the upper deck?” Wade asked, snuggled comfortably against a red beanbag with his character sheet resting on a large binder in his lap.
“Two,” Vick grinned, hoping that his fellow gamers wouldn’t smell the devious trap he had spent two hours setting them up for.
“I’ll use the crossbow on the least injured of the two,” Wade declared.
“Roll it,” Vick replied.
Wade picked up his dice, started to roll but then abruptly stopped when Donna Vishe fell out of thin air and landed on him. Now thirty, the scarred adventuress found herself straddling poor Wade with a pair of ten-inch fighting knives gently pressed against his throat. Wade yelped helplessly, pinned to the beanbag by her left knee. The other gamers jumped to their feet in shock.
Red steam rose from her form as she quickly sized up the room and its occupants. Crossing out of the world of Mintath had left Donna with the serious urge to vomit (yet again). The gamers took in her bloody, ragged attire. Her knee-high boots, baggy breeches, and chainmail blouse were all dark green. A bandolier of five small throwing knives ran across her ample bosom. An empty pair of knife sheaths dangled from her shapely hips. A small red shield was slung across her back.
Donna’s