“Fine, we’ll follow the creepy old guy.”
“Thank you!” Wendy cleared her throat, collecting herself with a calming hum. She lifted her worn notebook, the many rules of the game scribbled within. They picked up where they’d left off, Trevor and Renee transported mentally into the fantasy carnival.
Renee’s femme fatale Iris took the lead, white knuckling her blade as she descended into the darkened cellar. Trevor’s peg-legged hunter Paladin followed close, ducking in order to fit.
The unfurnished room had a single candle providing light. The hunched man hovered around the flicker, armed with torn scrolls. “Thank you for coming. Truly, we have little time before He Who Shan’t be Named discovers your sentience and implores to overtake your conscious minds.”
Iris rolled her eyes. Paladin yawned.
“This carnival is no ordinary carnival. We all are captive in a vicious repetition of the same day, unable to wander beyond the bounds of the fairground.”
“Why?”
Pulled from the fantasy, Trevor grinned. “William. ‘Bout time you got up.”
His spindly fingers snagged a handful of popcorn. William dropped into the seat beside Renee and kicked his feet onto the table. “Was up all night with Wendy’s yammering.”
Wendy threw her brother’s feet off the table with a menacing growl. “I was writing. And you interrupted the game.”
“I’m just saying, your sesquipedalian hunchback is wasting time with nonsense riddles.”
“They’ll make sense after I’m done reading. So shoo.”
William picked a kernel out of his teeth before reaching for the chocolate. “Maybe I wanna play.”
“As if!” Wendy retook her place at the opposing end. “We’ve already made characters and gotten past the introduction.”
William slapped a stack of paper onto the table. Character sheets, filled in with his illegible scratch. “Call me Apollo, handsomest of the dwarves.” He grinned at Renee, playfully combing his blond locks.
Wendy’s nose scrunched as she scrutinized the smudged sheets. “Dwarves aren’t handsome. And this personality type is the worst you can come up with for collaboration.”
“That’d be why Apollo is a firm believer in disestablishmentarianism. That’s page three.”
Trevor bit his lip while Renee snickered.
A low growl emanated from Wendy, but she refrained from snapping. “The old man is interrupted by the… handsomest dwarf he’s ever seen. Said dwarf trips on the stairs, faceplanting the ground.”
The fantasy returned, Apollo falling at the feet of Iris and Paladin.
Rising quickly, Apollo brushed off his leather garb and patted his thick red beard. “A rude entrance. Now get to the point, hunchback.”
The old man stalled, grimacing at the nickname. “I’ll speak my peace, strange creature. What an odd bunch you are, but it not matter. As long as you swear to save us from this scourge and break the curse.”
Paladin scratched his scalp, ruffling pale curls. “We came down here, didn’t we?”
Iris sheathed her blade while flipping dark locks over her shoulder. “Onto the quest. Who’s he with no name?”
The hunched man snarled, Wendy’s voice seeping into the tone. “He Who Shan’t be Named shan’t be named. He observes the entire carnival, toying with his spell when the hours grow dull.”
Apollo slammed his axe into the ground and leaned on the hilt. “Are we talking gubernatorial or wizard having a bad day?”
The man’s eyes darkened. “Are you accepting the quest?”
“Yes,” the three adventurers said, wondering how it wasn’t obvious.
His face brightened. “Magnificent. For your journey, you will need this.” He handed Paladin a scroll with a map of the carnival. Charcoal circled specific locations, a ruin denoting each. “He Who Shan’t be Named frequents several places. I suggest looking for him and his dastardly hoard there. As for breaking the spell,-”
A thwack pierced the musty air. Two more arrows joined the one in the old man’s chest. He fell onto the candle blanketing them in darkness.
An ominous hiss echoed through the room.
A purple flame brightened the darkness. Iris waved her hand, revealing the pale elves that attempted to surround them. Three in total, clothed in torn black.
Apollo lifted his axe with a giddy grin. “This’ll be fun.”
Paladin notched three arrows and fired, two hitting their mark. Apollo launched forward, cutting the first elf in half.
Mist reformed his midsection. A deadly hiss seeped into their minds. “Our turn.” One of the elves fired on Iris, missing despite the light in her hand. Another fired, arrow bouncing off a forcefield around her. The third much larger elf grabbed Apollo and threw him against the wall.
Iris tossed her blaze along the ground, separating them from the elves. They screeched in the bright firelight.
Paladin gauged his chances. Notching arrow after another, he fired three shots. Two made it between the eyes of the small elves, the first dematerializing into a puff of smoke. The third missed.
Apollo leapt over the blaze, axe held high. The blade separated the larger elf’s skull, but he still stood. Apollo dropped down, cursing. “No head means dead. Have you never seen a horror film?”
Wendy glared at William, Trevor and Renee refraining from agreeing. “It’s based on health levels. And technically that roll only gets you the shoulder, not the head.”
William glanced at the die. “That seems like a pretty big number.”
Wendy glowered, blowing a strand of red hair out of her reddening face.
William leaned toward Renee. “Twist: ‘He Who Shan’t be Named’ is actually a woman.”
Renee grinned, returning to her drawing. “At this rate, we won’t see He Who Shan’t be Named until we’re all gray.”
Wendy dropped the die. “Okay. Elf 2 fires an arrow at Iris and hits. Your shoulder is wounded.” She stared expectantly.
Renee’s pencil stalled. “What?”
“Your shoulder is wounded.”
William tapped her shoulder. “You’re supposed to act injured.”
Renee leaned in her seat and glanced at Trevor with indignation. Why had they agreed to this game?