Chapter 1: I Drank So Much, I Woke up in a Dungeon
When Berik Bauer woke up, he found himself in a place he did not recognize. It was dark, damp, and made entirely of the most uncomfortable stone. He sat up, wincing at how badly his head throbbed, and looked around. There wasn’t a window in sight, but a door made of iron bars divided his cell from the rest of the chamber. Was he in prison? What had he done last night? The last thing he remembered was being fired from his job as a town guard.
When Berik was pulled into the captain’s office, he was told, on no uncertain terms, that he was fired. As he stood, dumbfounded, the captain went on to say that the city was trying to “cut the fat”, so to speak. The council members were trying to cut back on unnecessary spending, so the first things on the chopping block were public education, public safety, and waste management. Not that those things could be completely let go, the council members argued. But did we really need to be spending so much on them? Really?
At first, Berik didn’t believe it. It wasn’t that the decision hurt him. No, the announcement simply didn’t make sense, so therefore it couldn’t be. Logic dictated that the old veterans, with their higher paychecks grown by years of raises and bonuses, should have been let go first. He had only been a Dawnport guard for five years, hired on his eighteenth birthday. Five years was nothing in the eyes of the Guard. And yet they were letting him go.
There was nothing he could do but turn over his chestplate, his helmet, and his spear, all standard gear of the Guard. Berik desperately explained that the dent on his helmet was there when it was given to him, but they still charged him two Copper for damages. The bastards.
Then, after he left the guardhouse, he decided to get very, very drunk. He couldn’t go to the old watering hole. No, the Knock-Me-Down was for guards, and he wasn’t part of that band of brothers. Not anymore. So he went to some new establishment called the Crowning Glory. It was run by a gnome, but he had heard the drinks were strong anyway, and they were showing one of the most anticipated Dungeon League adventures all season. It was the Stormcallers going up against the Landsharks! Legendary rival parties going head-to-head! But then beer turned to liquor which turned into shots, shots, shots and everything faded to a murky, hazy black.
In the dark, dank cell, Berik tried to stand, but dizziness threatened to overtake him. He used the slippery wall to get to his feet and took a moment to let his stomach adjust to his new vertical position. If he wasn’t careful, whatever he had drank would be coming up real soon. Finally satisfied that he wouldn’t spew all over the floor, Berik took a tentative step toward the door.
Suddenly, a smooth orb shot out in front of him like a startled cat. It glowed faintly blue in the dim light and hovered a couple of feet off of the floor. Berik jumped back, not knowing if he should kick it apart or try to smash it against the wall.
“WHOA THERE, BUCKAROO!” a loud voice said from the orb. “Y’ALL DON’T WANT TO BREAK THIS LITTLE OL’ MAGIC EYE! IT AIN’T GONNA HURT YOU! NAW, WHAT YOU’RE GONNA WANT TO DO IS TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR CHARACTER SHEET AND GET THIS PARTY STARTED!”
He winced at how loud the voice was, but once it became apparent that the weird little orb wasn’t going to blast him into oblivion or anything, Berik took a closer look around the cell. And, sure enough, he noticed pieces of armor stacked neatly in a corner like it was waiting for him.
“IT AIN’T GONNA HURT YOU NONE!” the weird little orb said. “IT’S YOUR SWORD. AND THE REST IS YOUR ARMOR. HURRY UP AND EQUIP IT. YOU CAN SEE IT ALL FROM YOUR CHARACTER SHEET.”
“My…character sheet?” Berik asked.
“YUP! I THINK WE GOTTA START AT THE BEGINNING. JUST FOCUS ON THE AREA IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES AND THINK THE WORDS. YOU’LL SEE A LITTLE MENU SORTA THING APPEAR. YOU CAN SEE HOW HIGH YOUR ARMOR CLASS IS, YOUR CURRENT HEALTH POINTS, ALL THAT GOOD STUFF.”
Berik grew dizzy again. Health points? Armor class? What was going on? Not knowing what else to do, Berik did as the floating orb instructed. He thought of
the words “character sheet” and gasped at the words that appeared in front of him.
CHARACTER SHEET
NAME: Berik Bauer (Human)
CLASS: [Fighter]
LEVEL: 1
HIT POINTS: 18
ARMOR RATING: 16
XP: 0/300
BASE SCORES
MIGHT 15
AGILITY 12
VITALITY 13
INTELLECT 8
ESSENCE 10
PRESENCE 14
ACTIONS
WARRIORS’ RESPITE: HEAL FOR 1D10 PLUS [FIGHTER] LEVEL. 0/1
The orb began speaking again. “YOUR MIGHT STAT IS PRETTY GOOD! THAT’S VERY IMPORTANT FOR A [FIGHTER]. YOU’LL BE USING THAT A LOT! AND YOUR AGILITY AIN’T HALF BAD, EITHER. YOUR VITALITY IS DECENT. I CAN WORK WITH A 13.”
“What does any of that mean?” Berik asked, very aware of just how hung over he was.
“THAT’S A LATER LESSON IF YOU COME OUT OF THIS,” the Magic Eye said. “FIRST, TAKE THAT THERE SWORD AND THINK “EQUIPMENT”. THEN IT’LL BE IN YOUR EQUIPMENT SHEET! IN FACT, GO AHEAD AND DO THAT TO ALL THE ARMOR THERE.”
Though he didn’t know what any of the words meant, Berik did as the floating orb instructed. He held the sword and various bits of equipment. He thought of the word “equip”. Suddenly, the scroll in front of his eyes switched to a different arrangement.
EQUIPMENT
Right Hand: Iron Sword (Range: Melee Damage: 3-5)
Left Hand: Iron Shield (+2 to Armor Class)
Armor: Iron Breastplate (+10 to Armor Class)
Ring 1: none
Ring 2: none
Necklace: none
“I know I’m wearing a helmet and pauldrons and everything, but it’s not listed on my equipment sheet,” Berik stated.
“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT,” the orb said. “ALL THAT STUFF IS COUNTED UNDER IRON ARMOR. BUT HEY! YOU’RE LOOKIN GOOD!” the Magic Eye asked. “TAKE A STEP THROUGH THAT DOOR AND BEGIN YOUR FIRST QUEST!”
“My…quest?” Berik asked.
The orb bobbed up and down like it was nodding. “YOU GOT IT! SO, YOU KNOW Y’ALL GOT A CHARACTER SHEET. AND AN EQUIPMENT SHEET. BUT Y’ALL ALSO GOT A QUEST SHEET, TOO! GO AHEAD AND TAKE A LOOK.”
Berik rubbed his eyes and thought of the phrase “Quests”. And he didn’t jump nearly as high when the floating scroll appeared in front of his eyes.
QUESTS
Rats in the Cellar
Eliminate the rat problem in the cellar.
0/50 rats slain
0/1 Rat King slain
“Wait, what’s a Rat King?” Berik asked.
The Magic Eye raced in a happy circle. “KILLING IT MARKS THE END OF YOUR TRYOUT!”
“My tryout? For what?”
“YOU DON’T REMEMBER?” the orb asked.
“I don’t remember anything from last night!” Berik cried.
“YOU WERE PRETTY WORKED UP. YOU MARCHED RIGHT UP TO LORD MONROVEDERE AND ANNOUNCED YOU WANTED TO BE HIS [FIGHTER],” the Magic Eye said.
“Why did I do that?” he asked, clutching his head.
“NOT SURE, BUDDY! BUT IT’S A LITTLE TOO LATE NOW!” the Magic Eye said. “YOU GOT YOUR FIRST QUEST TO DO! NOW, YOUR BEGINNER TUTORIAL IS COMPLETE, SO I’M GONNA SHUT UP NOW. GO ON, NOW. GIT!”
The glowing orb went silent. Berik sighed and opened the door of the cell. It was unlocked, just as the scream-shouting Magic Eye said. He walked into a labyrinth of… storage shelves. He shook his head as if to clear it, but there was no mistaking what he saw. Tall shelves lined the walls and stood in the middle of the floor, creating a maze of organized baking ingredients. The shelves here were stocked with bags of flour, sacks of sugar, jars of cornstarch, and bottles of extract. It was like a baker’s dream, if bakers liked to bake in the filthy dark.
“So, if I kill all the rats, I’ll be let out of here?” Berik asked the Magic Eye. it said nothing, but he got the feeling it wanted to reply. He kept close to the ground, looking for tiny little bits of rodent waste. Growing up on Chuckleholm Avenue and working for the Guard, he was well acquainted with rats and their leavings. Left, right, then left again, he slowly checked every box and package he came across, knowing full well how much rats would chew through anything to get to what might be food.
Suddenly, he heard a squeak from down the corridor of shelves. A rat stood in the middle of the floor, staring at him with its beady little eyes.
“Weird. Rats usually try to stay hidden,” Berik said to himself. “Maybe rats act differently here? Wherever here is?” He strode up to the rat with his sword at the ready. It didn’t flinch. “Well, at least this will be easy.”
The rat still didn’t run away. Almost feeling sorry for the little vermin, he took a swing back, but just before his blade sliced through the tiny rodent, its eyes flashed red. It bared its yellow fangs and leaped for Berik’s throat. Somehow, the tiny creature managed to clear the distance and sank its incisors into his exposed neck. He cried out, trying to pull the creature off of him. Luckily, it was easy enough to tear off and slam to the floor. Down came his new [Iron Boot], and then that was that.
Berik thought “QUESTS” just to make sure he got credit for his deed. The corner of his mouth quirked. It seemed he had.
QUESTS
I Smell a Rat
Kill all the rats in the pantry.
1/50 rats slain
0/1 Rat King slain
Before he could congratulate himself for too much longer, a great cry made up of dozens of little furious rodent voices sounded from deeper inside the maze. Suddenly, the darkness became a living thing as a massive rat swarm charged right for him. Without hesitation, Berik swung his sword at the furry flood but soon found that just crushing them with his shield was far more effective.
Before he could smash them all, the rats suddenly retreated, all as one. They scampered down the long shelving corridor and turned a corner, disappearing from sight.
“Hey, wait!” Berik shouted, dashing after them. Even though he wanted to finish the quest, he knew that if he spotted a door, he could probably just walk out of this bizarre place. What was this Lord Monrovedere going to do about it?
He continued down the pantry hallway until he cleared the corridor and entered a large clearing. Shelving had been shoved to the side or completely overturned. Flour from burst bags and salt from spilled bottles dusted the floor like fresh snowfall. Hundreds of tiny little claw marks showed in the powder, showing where the vicious vermin had gone. A massive hole had been dug or chewed out of the stone floor and Berik had to admire how tenacious rats’ jaws could be. Even if one had just tried to gnaw through his neck.
He looked around for a torch or a lantern. He could throw a torch down there, burn them all at once, he thought. But Berik grimaced. Sure, he had stomped rats before, but catching them all on fire seemed inhuman.
Before he could voice his thoughts, he heard a roar from the depths below. A massive hairy shape, as large as a draft horse, crawled out of the hole and stood on its hind legs to hiss down at the bewildered ex-guard. Dozens of the surviving rats swarmed around their master, teeth bared for a fight.
With a snarl, he sent out his loyal subjects to attack the hungover [Fighter], to devour him completely and leave nothing behind. And even though he would normally consider himself brave, Berik could only stare at the horrible sight in front of him.
He had found the Rat King! Or rather, he had found Berik!