Category Action/Adventure

[WP] You are a wizard that specializes in summoning magic. Unlike other summoners that forcefully bind otherworldly creatures to do their bidding, you are the eldritch equivalent of “I know a guy.”

The battle-hardened party leader looked back at his companions, the concern on his face far more apparent than he’d prefer. “Uh, guys,” Broman the Barbarian began. “I know I’ve got top tier strength and endurance but I’m not sure that’s going to do us much good in dealing with that,” he says thumbing back over his shoulder.

Beyond their narrow rock bridge–suspended over the glow of molten rock–is an undead army of over one thousand zombie and skeleton foot soldiers. Ahead of them is a Wrath Knight, sitting atop its undead stead with a greatsword lying over its shoulder.

Flying over the army of doom is a sickly-green dragon with a wingspan wide enough to stretch from one side of the army to the other. The dragon is flying back and forth over the soldiers in a continuous figure-eight path.

Broman looks to each of his companions for both their input and more ideally, a lifeline to get them out of this mess, considering that the door behind them just slammed shut.

Bardotious Max readies his harp sideways like an electric guitar, then strums his fingers down in a single riff only to raise the hand back up to extend a fist with his index and pinkie fingers protruding. “I wanna rock!” Bardotious exclaims. “…so you can count on my support.”

Broman just stares back at him, slowly blinking before shaking his head. “Really, not sure what I was expecting there,” he grumbles to himself, before looking to their mage. “What about you Frozenheart the Wintery Witch of Polararctica? Have anything powerful enough to help us live to fight another day?”

Frozenheart’s attention is somewhere down towards the molting magma as she tries her best to not make eye contact with Broman, thinking it equates to dinosaur rules where he wouldn’t see her if she remained still didn’t make eye contact. But then Broman starts snapping his fingers like he’s trying to get a toddler to look at the camera for the photo and she knows she’s been seen.

“Sorry ’bout that Broman,” Frozenheart begins. “I thought you were talkin ’bout some other Wintery Witch of Polararctica. You see…the thing is…I just respec’d and I only really got the weak-flame spell so far. So if we get through this, you can count on me to make one hell’ova smore…granted you got the chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers, of course.”

Broman’s left eye starts to twitch, and he just stares blankly until his shocked-but-not-really-surprised status times out.

Broman looks over to their healer Whitewind and his eyes don’t even stop as they continue to move over to the last party member. He just sighs and pinches his nose. “Well, we’re boned–and that’s going to be literal in the next few minutes.”

“Hold up, now.” the last party member says. “I might have an idea.”

Broman looks back over with his hands on his hips. “Really, Jerry? What kind of idea could you possibly have that could help us here? The blue flame that you selected for your eyes doesn’t give me the greatest confidence in your eldritch capabilities.”

Broman kicks a rock off the bridge as he looks away. “I knew we should’ve brought that necromancer.”

“Come on,” Jerry insists. “I might know a guy.”

Jerry’s staff becomes outlined in blue flame and floats away from him, where he begins moving his hands around one another to channel his spell.

“A guy?” Broman protests. “Geez, Jerry, I’m a guy. Hopefully you’re not trying to summon me because that’s not really going to help us here.”

The ten second cast time expires, and the staff floats back to Jerry’s opening grasp. The rest of the party look around their bridge to see that it’s still empty. Broman shakes his head and rubs his forehead. “Oh, I hate my life.” He glares back at Jerry. “Did you actually just try and summon me?”

Jerry shakes his head. “Of course not, I summ–

A projectile fires from a ledge above and behind them. The ordinance corkscrews across the molting chasm and the party’s gaze looks up to follow it as it makes a final hook and slams into the dragon. The dragon lets out a mewling cry as its wings fold and it falls back towards the army.

The party looks back up to the ledge as a barrage of gunfire opens up, stretching back across the party and moving like the spray from a fire hose. The steady stream passes back and forth in a continuous swath as it moves through the army of dead, laying down everything it comes in contact with.

The Wrath Knight’s mount gets spooked and begins turning in circles as the rider fights to regain control. Another projectile launches as the swath of bullets continues to hammer the rest of the army. The projectile spirals upward, then hooks back down, striking the mounted leader and sending him flailing one direction as the mount collapses another.

The shooting finally stops and a slack-jawed Broman looks at the newly installed graveyard. The party turns back up to the ledge to see a lone bearded-man step into sight, give a thumbs up, then disappear.

Broman looks back over to the party’s Eldritch Mage. “What the hell was that, Jerry?”

“I cast identify on it,” Bardotious replies. “It was something called a Chuck Norris.”

“It’s been three years since we first left the village. We’ve traveled all over the world. We’ve overcome so many trials… But I’ve glimpsed into your future. And… I’m not in it.”

The penguin cast its gaze down the arrow shaft and beyond the arrowhead between him and the tiger stalking through the jungle’s undergrowth. Behind him is his life partner, holding the precious stone that he had given her so long ago. She’s clutching it tightly as her anxiety mounts with each step the tiger makes in their direction.

The arrow takes flight and sails true, sticking into the top of the tiger’s shoulder. It leaps backwards in surprise, then turns to bound away.

“Is it gone, Patrick? asks the penguin with the stone, her fins clasped over one another as if wringing her hands.

“Yeah,” he replies, lowering the bow. “We’re safe again, at least for a little while. But we need to keep moving, Penny. It’s only a matter of time before the tiger’s courage grows too large again.”

She nods, then turns to continue in the direction they had been traveling. “The new village shouldn’t be much farther, right?”

Patrick slings the bow over his back and follows after her. “We should be getting there any time now.”

She nods while continuing to walk on. “When we left the village, did you ever imagine us evading a tiger of all things? Orcas, sure. I knew to expect that. We were actually far luckier than we had any right to be.” She becomes distant as she thinks about the loved ones they had both lost.

“Tiger?” Patrick asks, looking up to the treetop canopy as a monkey leaps from one limb to another. “Not specifically, but I knew there would be danger beyond what we’d known before. But there was more hope in that unknown danger than there was in staying in a village with the knowledge that resources were running out. It was either stay and slowly die off through starvation or leave in pursuit of a new future.”

“But three years have already come and gone. I hope this village is more than just a pipe dream.”

“If it’s not, we’ll start our own village.”

Penny laughs. “With just the two of us? Are you mad?”

“I’d be mad to think I needed anyone else.”

She smiles and turns, backpedaling as she talks. “The trip has had it’s ups and down for sure. Do you remember the elephants that protected us from that pack of hyenas?”

“That’s a hard thing to forget, Penny, but I appreciate you not allowing me the opportunity.”

She smiles brighter as she recalls more. “Or how about that decaying rope bridge that we had to cross over that valley? We were soooooo high up, it was making me dizzy.”

Patrick just shakes his head, knowing that it doesn’t matter what he says, she’ll continue talking like he’s continuing the conversation. He smiles brightly as an idea occurs to him. “You know that’s not the original promise stone i gave you, right? I lost the original in a card game a few years ago.”

“And the waterfall! Oh, I just lov–wait, what was it you said?”

Patrick smiles broadly. “Just that I liked the elephants too.”

She narrows her eyes at him, suspiciously. “I thought I heard something about a promise stone?”

He looks around and past her as they are nearing a cliff. His sure grow wide as he looks past her, then points and runs. “We’re here!”

She turns to follow his excitement as he stops at the cliffs edge. Below, a giant wall wraps around an enclosed city. Plumes of smoke twist away from smoke stacks the dot the infrastructure and the sound of car horns almost be heard on the wind.

Patrick cants his head as he looks down and she walks up to stand next to him. “This is not what I was imagined,” Patrick says begrudgingly.

Penny looks down and then turns to meet his gaze. “If your future is to be down there, in that… then I can’t be in it.” She turns to walk away from the cliff.

He cants his head in the opposite direction while watching her walk away, then hastily wobbles up to walk beside her.

She looks down as his fin wraps around hers and she turns back to meet his gaze again. He takes her other fin with the stone and brings her fins together. She looks to her clasped hands and back up to him as he nods.

“I only care about one future,” he tells her. “And that one revolves around me, you, and this stone. Everything else is just filler.”

Her eyes begin to twinkle as he turns back to the jungle and looks back into the jungle. She rushes closer and loops her fin under his before looking out ahead. She smiles. “At least this time we know what dangers lie ahead of us,” she says, turning to meet his gaze. “Shall we go?”

He nods and they step back into the jungle.

[WP] An unfathomably ancient cosmic entity drifting through infinite space passed by this weird little planet called Earth and heard over their broadcast radio signals this extremely annoying, but incredibly catchy song. It can’t get the song out of its head and is going insane.

A substance like mercury drifts through humanity’s solar system. It collides with various forms of space debris and its contact acts something like a hot instrument through butter. Everything is peeled away as it’s consumed, causing it to grow and sending a sheen shifting across its reflective surface. The contact causes no friction with the substance and doesn’t alter its course or speed.

As it passes Saturn and Jupiter, it passes through several moons, growing drastically and taking an elongated shape. It then collides with the debris of a human satellite, consuming it and incorporating it into its ever-shifting nature.

A ripple reverberates through the substance like a stone hitting water. Its intent begins reaching through various wave forms as it searches for more to consume. It eventually comes in contact with sound waves and shifts along the spectrum as various sounds sync with the ripples shifting across its form. It stops on a particular song and the ripples grow still. Words and concepts stream across the soundwaves and suddenly the evolving creature taps into the internet to absorb context for the playing song.

Encountering a squid reference online, its shape mimics a squid as its appendages start to squirm in sync with the song’s tune. A green sheen starts to shift up and down the creature’s body and it begins to waggle as if it were doing The Worm through space.

“All right, all right, all right, all right, all right, all right, all right, all right,all right, all right, all right, all right, all right, all right.”

The squid mimic becomes more animated, popping and locking to the song as it sails towards Earth. It lifts its appendages towards its head and waves them while continuing to sway.

“Shake it, Sh-shake it, shake it, sh-shake it.”

The squid’s body develops swaying shoulders, then four sets of eyes, each having a multi-faceted nature like a fly. The song’s video begins playing on all of the reflective surfaces as the band plays and dances on stage. Suspenders then start forming over its shoulders, its appendages merge and become a pair of legs with a flannel pattern.

The head shifts again and its proportions change as its head becomes an appropriate size to its body. The head takes on a humanoid shape, having eyes, ears, nose and facial features that shift to mimic the lead singer. Its torso adopts a solid green color as its human form finishes, and it nods vigorously to the beat.

The song’s chorus is coming up and it loses control, getting pumped to join in. It opens its mouth–then dies.

Reference song:

Hey Ya! by Outkast

[WP] A modern style suburb, complete with HOA and backyard cookouts, but set in a DnD style fantasy world.

If Woody Allen ever had a double, it would have been Barry, the middle-aged sorcerer. He stands just inside his tented glass storm dorm in a bath robe and house slippers while drinking his cup of coffee. Every sip calls for a dice roll to the side of his view. The number comes up, calling on his dexterity of 2, then digitally adding modifiers and the outcome under the dice. Every so often, his -4 modifier reminds him of his life choices as he spills his coffee on his chin and curses under his breath. He wipes his mouth with already stained sleeve of the robe. “Don’t min-max your life,” his family and friends had said.

He adjusts his glasses and looks out through his door of concealment. The sprinklers are about to cut off so he’s waiting to do battle with his nemesis. His neighbor, across from him is retrieving a garbage can after descending his elevated drive. The Jones’ house is a two story monstrosity that sits on a small hill like a hat on a head. Barry shakes his head as he looks his neighbor’s way with a mixture of scorn and envy. Why have more cars than you do garage space? They’ve already got twice the garage as the rest of the neighborhood and it’s just the two of them there. Who needs five cars? Mr. Jones stops for a moment to look over as Barry’s sprinklers continue to do their deed. After he completes his condescending stare, he nods and takes the garbage back up the drive where he can continue to look down on everyone. Prick.

The sprinkler shuts off and Barry prepares himself for the dungeon run he’s about to undertake. He downs the rest of his coffee, then sets the cup aside. He glares at his nemesis and tries to psyche himself up for the battle. Why his wife paid for the instillation of an anti-tamper mailbox with a DC of 8, he’ll never know. He tightens the knot of his robe then hyperventilates briefly. He adjusts his glasses, sets his chin, then opens the door, and steps into the dungeon.

[WP] A demon disguises them self as a human, in the following years they meet their now roommate and become good friends. Four years later they take you to a private area to have a talk. What’s their secret? They’re actually an angel.

The drive is quiet but the same can’t be said about his mind. His thoughts are spiraling and chaotic. He hadn’t been this disoriented since before he lived as a human. “What’s going on with you, Bericho?” He checks his phone to see that it’s approaching midnight. The roads are lonely this side of town. The only activity here is from the fog that is filling the ditches and building at the base of passing hills. It occurs to him that there would be almost zero time to react to any kind of animal running from out of the fog. His mind continues to bounce between the possibility of this close encounter with animal kind and the cryptic phone call that he received from, Bericho.

“Hey Kip, could you meet me some place?”
“Ugh, I suppose. Why? What’s up?”
“The county fairgrounds. You know them, right?”
“Yes? —but the fair’s not in town, is it?”
“Just, come alone.” Dial tone.

Kip had never been a boy scout but after hearing their description, he started thinking of Bericho in that way. He was always straight forward, always prepared. Morally, he was like a Chuck Norris arrow. Most arrows bend around the arrow-rest when fired but that’s not what happens with a Chuck Norris arrow. When you let one of those go, the arrow-rest moves out of the way, and that’s who Bericho is. He didn’t do whatever this cryptic mess was. He’s a boyscout. If he wants to tell you something, he tells you. The end.

Kip pulls into the field to find Bericho’s truck still running and his lights shining across the field. He parks next to him, then follows the headlight beams to see a figure standing across the field. He leaves his car running as well, climbing out to see the figure not approach to meet him. He pulls his hood over his head, then wears his pockets for gloves as he begins his walk.

“Hey buddy,” Kip calls out. “Everything alright?”

Bericho is facing away and continues to look up at the stars. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Kip looks around to the open field, scanning out of habit. “What’s that?”

Bericho finally turns around as Kip approaches. “I missed you friend. I hope I didn’t cause you much trouble, bringing you out here?”

Kip shrugs. “It’s no problem, just unusual, you know?”

Bericho nods. “How long have we known each other?”

Kip bounces a bit and rustles his hands in his pockets as if to settle a chill and appears to contemplate.

1,358 days, if we’re being exact. “I guess it’s been about four years, right?”

Bericho nods. “About that but if we’re being exact, it would be 1,358 days.”

Kip’s eyes narrow. “Ok? That seems astute. Creepy, but astute…if it’s true, that is.”

“We’ve been friends a long time and for me, I’d say you are the best of my friends.”

“Thanks buddy. You’re alright too.”

Bericho smiles but it melts away as he becomes lost in his thoughts. He finally meets Kip’s eyes with the directness that Kip had come to expect from him. “What do you think about the afterlife, Kip?”

Kips takes another look around the field before answering. “Did we really have to come all the way out here for you to talk about that? We could have done that some place warmer, you know? Like maybe the dorm room we share?”

“Humor me.”

Kip shrugs again. “I don’t know man. I just don’t think about that sort of stuff. I leave that for other people to worry about. Me? I just try to focus on right now.”

“I think about it a lot—constantly actually. It’s always on my mind.”

“And that’s fine. That’s what being human is all about right? Each of us doing what we feel is right?”

“Human,” Bericho chuckles. “That’s my hang up Kip. You know, angels aren’t so different from humans, demons either for that matter. Books never seem to get those sorts of things right.” Kip begins squinting again, becoming more aware of Bericho’s every move. “Angels are actually identical to humans as long as their disembodied wings are ethereal and concealed. Their wings are actually weapons and remain invisible unless we…err they…the angels want them to be seen.”

“Ok?”

Bericho sighs, drops his gaze and nods. Kip starts to glance around again as speckles of light start to move through the air on each side of them. These slivers then become like steadily shinning fireflies, moving around to cause streaks of light. As Kip watches, it’s as if the fireflies are moving across an invisible etch-a-sketch, painting a brilliant image while using light as a color. Eventually, four independent wings stretch twenty yards to each side of Bericho. The details of the feathers can’t be seen and there are tendrils of energy that writhe, weaving through the spaces concealed there.

Kip casually looks each direction with his fists still in his pockets. He doesn’t show a reaction but the creases within his clinched fist begin to glow an intense red. It’s Bericho’s turn to squint as he looks Kip up and down. “I always knew you to be accepting Kip, but this is a little too nonchalant, given the circumstances.”

“Tell me something,” Kip says.

“Anything.”

“Do you have any powers of compulsion?”

Bericho nods. “Yes, but I’d never use them on you if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Kip exhales, nodding. “I hate it when others mess with my mind. I just want to make my own decisions, you know? I’m no one’s puppet.”

“You know something of us, don’t you? Who—what are you?”

“Answer me something first. Why are you telling me this? Why now? Why at all?”

Bericho turns away from Kip, but the wings don’t turn with him, remaining stationary as Bericho looks back up to the stars. “After we graduate, I’m going back. I’d always hated having to be dishonest with my classmates but with you, it was always the worst. Lying to my best friend time and time again, it’s been a growing burden, one that I couldn’t bear to carry back into Heaven. So, I needed you to know.”

Kip snorts, then laughs. Bericho turns back to look at him and Kip begins to laugh even harder. Kip raises a hand to wave off Bericho concern while wiping at his eye with the other. “We’re some pair, you know? Who’d have thought?” He shakes his head and continues to smile. “I wanted to be sure my feelings were my own, but I know I needn’t have worried.” Bericho arches his eyebrow then Kip’s hood starts to billow as a red light intensifies within its recesses. An unfelt wind seems to buffet Kip’s clothes while a slow crack of red creeps across the air above him. A greatsword then falls from the crack, driving into the ground behind Kip as cracks of magma splinter away from its earth sheathe. The blade is three feet across, and the visible portion of the weapon is still 2.5 times Kip’s height.

Bericho smiles and shakes his head. “I guess this make us enemies Kip.”

“Looks that way bud.” A moment later, Kip’s infernal powers fade and blow away as dark smoke. “You’re still leaving at the end of the year?”

Bericho’s wings burst into thousands of glowing insects, winding away from one another, then vanishing. “Yeah.”

“I plan to stick around, do some living, you know?”

“And if you’re still here for Armageddon?”

“I’ll stay the hell away from you, that’s for sure.”

Bericho laughs then. “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to fight me either.”

“It’s not like that,” Kip says, extending his hand. “You know what I mean.”

Bericho looks at the hand only a moment then reaches to clasp it. “Yeah, I couldn’t fight you either. Thanks Kip.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t fire up the waterworks on me. I’m going to head back to the dorm. Don’t be out too late, yeah? I hear demons can be found out this way, so you best be careful.”

The two turn their backs to one another, showing a trust only ever found on the same side of battle fields. Kip walks back to his truck with thoughts no calmer than they were on the drive here. He silently curses, realizing that Bericho just gave him another reason to dread Armageddon.

[WP] Your friend learns they are the chosen one. As they slowly lose their humanity and agency, it dawns on you that their destiny was actually bestowed upon them by an unknowable Lovecraftian horror.

Rain falls as the sky’s crocodile tears mix with his own, his face turned up towards the black, featureless void. So are we too to become just mere tears in the rain, he wonders. He lowers his gaze, resting it on the second story window above him. The light in her window is out, the time being well beyond a reasonable time for wakefulness, and yet, he could not himself, sleep, his heart so swelled as it was.
We didn’t deserve this but then again, who would? Who are they to decide? What gives them the right? His gaze falls again as his hands curl into fists. The rain continues to thrash against his long coat, erupting on his shoulders as the rain drops collide with a coat so saturated, it too is like standing water. Ripples reverberate around the coat as if it were a contorted surface of a pond.

“We’d always been best friends Callie, but I hoped it would be more…someday. I dreamed of this, one day being outside your window, but I had pictured sunshine and a boombox held over my head.” The stolen future infuriates him causing the water of his coat to slowly pool as it’s pushed out of the fabric. “Just look at us now. You and your life’s journey, your pilgrimage, just to become a living sacrifice. And then there’s me, chosen by the same assholes to project you until the appointed time. To keep you from harm until…you’re useful. To see what isn’t supposed to be seen. A watcher, just watching unless their plans start to run afoul.” He laughs then. “What a joke. It’s all just a bad joke.”

He turns walking back to the street as thunder growls in the distance. When his foot descends to the asphalt, the water separates, making way for his steps. The rain no longer strikes him, instead, colliding and trailing away from some invisible barrier. A blade of shadow extends from his hand and shadowy smoke peels out from under his coat as his stride lengthens, his pace quickening. I can’t…I won’t allow them to take you. They can’t have you!

His intent known, lightning streaks overhead and betrays the pretense of a featureless sky. Beyond the horizon, the lightning flash illuminates a colossal thing of shadow and cosmic intentions. With his weapon in tow and the water passing around, he is a rock defying the current of all things. The lightning strikes again and he glares at the creature. I’m coming for you.

[WP] All your life, you heard music that fit your actions. When you were playing hide and seek, for example, you could hear a tense suspenseful background music. One day, you are bullied at school, but decide to fight back. That’s when the heavy metal music kicked in…

The biggest knuckles ever seen anywhere on the planet are being propelled through the narrow space between the bully and the freckled spectacle mount that is your face. When the motion commences, your heart begins beating so fast that each pump, kicks your t-shirt away from your chest. Your eyes grow wide as the fist levels at you, where you then take notice of the hairs across the topside of the incoming blow. Then your eyebrow arches as you wait for it to arrive. You casually lean away from the blow, while remaining fixated on it. When the bully’s expression shifts to fury for you having the audacity to dodge, your expression shift to one of confusion, then apology.

A flurry of blows ensues, and you continue to duck, lean and turn as all of them float past you.

A kick follows, and you sidestep, then place your toes on the crook of his still planted leg.
His face shifts to pain as his momentum sends him sprawling.

His friends immediately charge you and you backpedal.

They are on a collision course for you when you sit backwards onto the spinning merry-go- round, zipping away from them and stepping off and away on the other side.

Your crush is on the other side of the merry-go-round, and you translate your momentum into her by grabbing her hand, placing a hand on her hip and twirling before walking away on her other side.

One of the friends’ feet are passing through the air from colliding with merry-go-round as the others flood around all obstacles like water from a broken dam.
You wait for them.

Another punch is sailing your way and you take a ballcap from a nearby head.
You cap the punch and redirect it, sending another bully flying.

Another rusher, and you smack a stack of papers to obscure view, then grab a nearby binder.

A homerun swing precedes the rusher falling away.

You step down from a curb as you enter the parking lot.

You’re pursued between the cars when you pull a car door open, leading to a chaser’s abrupt stop.

You walk out from between the cars, colliding with a girl as she walks behind the vehicles.

You spin in your collision, kissing her before she can process what has happened.

She spins away from you, as she processes the new whirlwind of emotion.

You spit out her gum and continue across the parking lot.

The scene behind you is one of still falling papers, sprawled bullies, a kid still upside down on a spinning merry-go-round, a dented car door and other students rushing to recover their scattered schoolwork, and a girl fanning herself as she watches you walk away.

Theme Music:
Kickstart My Heart by Motley Crue

Flash Fiction Challenge

Place-Aquarium
Object-Bandana
Max Words: 300

Gabby is an adventurous young tabby of orange and black. Knowing full well that Gabby loves all things jingly, her owner decides to make her a new toy. This should keep Gabby entertained, her owner thinks as she threads a bandana through a hole in a box, securing it inside with a knot and a bell. As it sits upright, it looks like a tissue box, only it jingles as the “tissue” is toyed with. In putting it together, the owner realizes she needs something weighty for the bottom so that it doesn’t tip over.

The owner leaves, then Gabby sits to eyeball her roommate, a fat gold fish named Sebastian. Gabby hops up to Sebastian’s sofa table. Gabby frequently plops down behind his aquarium and paws at the glass while Sebastian finds something interesting on the opposite side, but not today. A strange box is sitting next to Sebastian causing Gabby to investigate. Subtle probing suggests magic exists here, somewhere. Gabby pets it, claws hooking and pulling the box over. There’s a cave and a sparkle! Further investigation and spelunking leads Gabby to conclude she has discovered the source of all the jingling. On departure, the cave moves with her. She cannot seem to back out and the bell taunts her every attempt. Suddenly, there is falling and a crash. Gabby leaps as her feet touch water. Gabby goes one way and the belled box goes another.

Her owner walks in the front door, mouth agape, seeing the soaked floor and tank components. Gabby sits in a nearby, high backed chair, blinking lazily and waving her tail. She really wanted to tell her owner about all that transpired but settled on willing her the message. “Oh, while you were gone, some shit went down. Sebastian didn’t make it.”

[WP] They told you that you were going to lead an army, 10,000 men strong, they didn’t tell you it contained only a single trained solder, and 9,999 support musicians.

The ground beneath your feet is a sloppy bog of mud, not from any rain or water, rather from the gallons of blood that soak the battlefield. There are parts of people, vehicles and weapons strewn everywhere, making it impossible to tell what pieces and components belong to one another. You also see a twisted harp nearby, so you know that at least a few of the corpses were from you band.

It all makes sense now. I have to admit, when the Lord Commander sent the missive and escort instructing that I show up to lead an army…I may have peed a little. I mean, what the hell would an orchestra conductor do at the head of an army? I mean, really. Let that sink in for a moment. Imagine being a chef and being told that you have to be the flight commander for a pack of fighter jets. I mean, WTF?

Geez, this ended up being overkill…by a lot. We might as well have been punching babies for as much resistance as they put up. How much were we outnumbered? Three to one? Four? It’s actually thousands of times more than that if we count our one fighter against their army of fighters.

Still, they could have given me a little more information ahead of time…ignorance isn’t always bliss. We just had the one guy against their 35,000-ish troops but who knew buffs could stack like that? Well, you can consider me sold. From here on out, anytime I play an MMORPG, I’m definitely running around with a pack of bards. This has overpowered written all over it. I’m just glad God isn’t a very hands-on GM. It would totally blow to have him patch this after we’ve just figured out how effective it can be.

[WP] Little Red Riding Hood, The Big Bad Wolf, and the lumberjack all have to put their differences aside when they hear the moaning of the undead outside the cabin they’re in.

“My, what big teeth you have,” says the red hooded girl.

“All the better to—” The door bursts open. “Yelp,” cries grandma as she pulls the covers over her snout.

The red hooded girl orients on the door, a stun gun at the ready. “Jack,” she says. “What are you doing?”

“We’ve got company Sarah. Training is going to be a little more life and death this go round.”

Grandma’s eyes suddenly fall on the stun-gun in Sarah’s hand and her wolfish eyes narrow. “What’s going on here?” grandma asks, pulling the covers from over her snout. “What do you mean training?”

“Sorry wolfie, ole boy,” Sarah says with a mock apology. “You’re helping me get stronger.”

Jack approaches a window and pulls back the curtain. “Did you bring anything lethal?”

“Well of course not. I keep my grenades in my other picnic basket. Why would I need lethal?”

Wolfie pulls the bonnet from his head, curls his claws over his snout, and closes his eyes. “All this time? You’ve just been using me for—for training? Those times I almost had you…was any of that even real?”

“Sarah, Wolf, we don’t have time for any of that right now.” A thump collides with the window. Jack back pedals away, axe in hand.

“Spill it Jack,” Sarah says. “What’s out there?”

Jack levels his eyes on her and says one word. “Zombies.”

“You’re shitting me?”

Wolf growls and stands abruptly, then throws the bonnet on the floor. “You two have been playing me all this— wait, did someone say zombies?”

“Here,” Sarah says, tossing the stun-gun to Wolf. He fumbles it before securing it. “You know how to use that thing?” She doesn’t wait for a response as she kneels in the floor, pulling the cover from the basket and tossing bread aside. Wolf grips the weapon with both hands as he leans to look over the bed to see what she is doing. She pulls a panel from the bottom of her basket and removes a pair of silver pistols. She pulls back each slide in turn to chamber a round, checks the magazine capacities and resets the mag before lifting her skirt to check the extra magazines tucked into her garter. Jack and Wolf exchanges glances and Jack just shrugs.

“I thought you didn’t bring anything lethal?” Jack asks.

“Are you kidding me? Where do you think the boy scouts got it from? I’m always prepared. Let’s get out of here before we’re surrounded. Oh and Wolf—” Wolf jumps and fumbles the stun-gun again but recovers his grasp. “Don’t eat them. We have no idea what ingesting them would do to you and I’m not keen on fighting an undead Big Bad Wolf just yet.”

She walks past Jack as she leaves the room. Wolf’s shoulders slump as Jack offers an apologetic shrug, then beckons Wolf to follow.