Session 12: I'll Never Call Arson a Doll Sport Again

A write-up of our biweekly Dungeons & Dragons campaign from the perspective of my character, Heyou, a teenage elf barbarian. Heyou was kidnapped at a young age by bandits. His family was murdered and his face disfigured, including the almost complete removal of his ears, before being sold to the orphanage where he grew up. Orphanages are big business in our fictional world as they produce the laborers that power the economy. The disfigurement means it was impossible for any extended family to identify and claim him. As a result, Heyou has a very jaded world view but also sees the ability to make money by perpetuating the kidnap-and-sell scam. He is not very bright but considers himself so and thus he frequently uses words incorrectly. Heyou and several of his fellow orphanage mates have reached the age where they must leave and go find jobs in the fields they have trained all their lives, however they have chosen a different path and have overthrown the thieves guild that once ran their small corner of town.

Heyou has a cantankerous relationship with one of his fellow orphans and guild members, Mayella, a very young girl who may or may not have vast untapped magical powers. Where the friction begins and ends is with the ragged, filthy doll Mayella clings to named Lorelai. Heyou is both weirded out and disgusted by the object. Is Mayella subconsciously possessing Lorelai or is Lorelai a sentient (and evil) being controlling Mayella? Either way, Heyou has repeatedly threatened to burn the doll. At the end of his rope, he finally gave in to the urge, albeit unsuccessfully. Knocked unconscious from wounds sustained in battle and on the precipice of death, Heyou endures a nightmarish out of body experience. It’s not real though, right? Right?

Session 12: I’ll Never Call Arson a Doll Sport Again

Blackness. I see nothing. I hear nothing. I am aware of nothing – nothing, that is, save for the cold. It is the kind of chill that bites into your bones and no amount of rubbing one’s flesh can make it go away. It’s a strange cold too. I can’t say it’s the temperature because I cannot see my breath, but I should be able to when the air outside feels like this. Am I outside though? I don’t know. No, it’s more of a…feeling. I don’t know. I haven’t the words to describe it.

And then I hear the voice. It comes from the distance, and as I hear it, I suddenly notice a small dot of light in the distance. The voice comes to me, not through my ears but as if it is inside my head. And it is sweet and calming. My body feels warmth once again. I know instantly it is a messenger of the gods sent to call me home so I can join my family.

But she does not call me home. Instead, she beckons me to action.

“It is not time for you to go yet, my sweet Heyou. There is much more this world needs from you – that I need from you. Come toward the light and awaken!”

I can’t help myself. I am drawn toward the light in the distance by her call. Step after step I take but I never seem to get closer. Just when my frustration is about to bubble over, the light suddenly rushes toward me.

Now I see it. I am walking down some stairs in a strange building. There is a man over my shoulder. I do not know him but somehow at the same time I know he is an archer and he is my enemy.

Looking back, I see Jillian following me down the stairs. She is streaked with blood and soil, signs that make it obvious she has been in battle. Just then I notice my own wounds, some of which are quite serious, but I don’t feel them. All I feel is strength and anger rushing through my veins.

We reach the bottom of the stairs, I step outside. At that moment a hail of arrows strikes me, and I am falling…

Blackness again. It surrounds me and I feel its icy fingers penetrating my skin. I turn every which way looking for the point of light, but I cannot locate it. And then the voice fills my head once more.

“This is not the end of your tale, my brave warrior. I need you to keep on. Please don’t give up!”

Again, the voice is accompanied by the light suddenly springing back into view, like a fire sparking to life far in the distance. I begin my journey toward it until it rushes at me once more.

I am on top of a building. I see Mayella down below running to a different one across the street. It is chaos down there. There is an overturned wagon aflame. Cries of battle and death assault me from every direction. Torn bodies riddle the street, their blood running free. I am in the midst of a battle I am trying to recall but it is like I took a blow to the head.

Mayella crouches down by the door. She appears to pick the lock and then disappear inside. I notice Dank also heads across to the building now. He speaks briefly with Black Lizard and then begins climbing the building as Black Lizard races around the back.

I look up and see an archer on that building but he does not notice Dank. Just then I hear Jillian. She is calling to me, telling me to help bind and gag someone. I turn to her and see a wounded man, another archer, lying on the rooftop. He is holding his shattered knee and rolling around crying in pain. Just then I notice I am holding my Maul and not my trusted sword, Wererat Slayer, but I don’t know why. At Jillian’s continued insistence, I help bind and gag the man and then throw him over my shoulder. I notice I am severely injured, but I don’t know why or how.

Before heading into the building and down the stairs I look back on last time. I see Mayella moving past a window on the third floor while Dank opens a hatch on the roof and drops inside.

I feel weary from my wounds and suddenly the blackness rushes at me again.

This time the voice comes to me quicker than before.

“Heyou! Have heart for surely you have mine! Get up for you are not done yet. There is much still I have to tell you. You must journey forth!”

Her words give me strength enough to shake off the cold, find the light anew and begin the journey through nothingness toward it. Time immeasurable flies past me until eventually, the light comes at me with breathtaking speed.

 I feel myself bobbing about and realize I am in the back of a horse-drawn cart. Black Lizard is with me in the cargo area where we are surrounded by barrels. On the floor is a strange man who is bound and gagged. Black Lizard appears to be bleeding profusely from a severe wound. I try to ask him what happened, but an explosion suddenly rocks our wagon and flames erupt all about us.

From the driver’s area, I hear Calladryll cry out in surprise. Frankie too cries out but his sounds more akin to pain. I fear he has been burned by the blast.

Smoke fills the wagon as the rest of us struggle to find our way around the cargo and out into clear air. I jump out to find us on an unfamiliar road lined with buildings on both sides. Multiple enemies in the street and from the surrounding rooftops are assaulting our position with spells and arrows and martial weapons. Drawing Wererat Slayer, I try to engage but, in the confusion, I drop it and cannot locate it among the thick smoke and flames.

Weaponless, I am struck multiple times from the enemies and feel my lifeforce rapidly draining from my body as lightning bolts sizzle by and more fireballs rain down upon us. Calladryll regains his feet and casts a spell to counter their wizards and I see one of them firing from the roof suddenly freeze up.

Black Lizard emerges from the burning wagon and immediately begins fighting fire with fire, launching his own ball of flame toward the nearby roof where the held wizard and an archer are positioned. The caster, unable to defend himself, crumbles into a pile of ash.

With everything going on around me, the explosions, the injuries I sustained, seeing my friends be struck and burned, I feel the anger welling up in me until it explodes. Without a thought, a draw my maul and swing it with all my fury, laying one of the attackers low.

In response, the enemy sends a flurry of magical bolts toward me, but they somehow miss. A splash of acid comes from somewhere behind me and strikes two of the swordsmen who had attacked us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Black Lizard crouching next to Frankie and putting some of his healing magic into our friend. Just beyond them, Jillian dispatches two swordsmen and then rushes to my side with Dank right behind her.

Frankie regains his feet at that moment and immediately snuffs out the last attacker we are facing.

I exchange a look with Jillian and then rush into the building and up its stairs. We explode onto the roof, taking the archer by surprise. We lost the bound enemy we had captured for information to the fireball that hit our cart so instead of smashing the archer’s head I shatter his knee.

Jillian opens her mouth to say something but the blackness collapses upon me and the next moment I am alone again, shivering in the impenetrable dark.

What is this place? And why do I keep coming back to it? Am I dead? I don’t understand. But then the voice comes to my head as if its owner can read my mind.

“Don’t worry, my dear. You are not dead – not yet, at least. Your body wants to give up, but I won’t let you go! Not yet! Get up, Heyou. They need you. I need you!”

This time I hear the whooshing sound before I see the light. I turn around just in time to see it hit me and then I am inside what I can only assume is a memory again.

I am helping Black Lizard load barrels into the back of a cart already laden with several more. I don’t know what all these barrels are for, but some nagging hint of a memory is telling me they are somehow important, and that I must protect them.

As Black Lizard reaches for the next barrel, a sword flashes out and strikes him, opening a serious-looking wound. Jillian hears the commotion and turns to help but she is struck even more severely. I can’t help myself as my rage overflows. Pulling Wererat Slayer from its sheath, I growl a challenge but not before a dart from an unseen assailant strikes me. For a moment something makes me feel strange, but I shake it off and wade into combat.

A sudden burst of light fills my head with stars, stunning me. When I regain my eyesight, I see several enemies frozen in place as if they were statues. Caladryll blows a sigh of relief, having just cast a spell to keep them from running.

We bind the fighters and then Frankie leans into them for information. They tell us some guy – they don’t know his name – hired them. He’s described as having a long nose and long hair and wears a hood. Not great information but it’s all they have to offer other than they were paid 10 rations each to do the hit.

I disappear into the supply closet of the building we’re at, an orphanage it turns out, and come out with the handles from several mops and brooms. One of the men we captured we leave gagged and bound in the street. Another we decide to take with us and so we throw him in the cart. The rest I sodomize with the wooden rods I took from the orphanage.

A short rest is in order while we attend to the wounds Black Lizard and Jillian sustained and then we are moving.

Suddenly I hear voices coming from several of the barrels, the voices of children. I am somehow not surprised by this though. Instead, I find myself threatening them to keep them quiet. Black Lizard, however, begins singing a lullaby and before long the children’s chatter dies away.

We arrive at another location and tell the person in charge there we have four barrels to exchange. Four barrels with children in them are unloaded and replaced with an equal number of barrels stuffed with goods.

Veego pipes up and says there is someone watching us from the roof of a nearby building. I turn to see for myself what he saw. At that moment though, blackness fills my vision and I am again in the frigid void.

I am tired of these visions and constantly being yanked back and forth.

“Who are you?” I demand. “What do you want with me?”

The voice in my head replies and the melodic sound instantly sets me at ease.

“Do not be angry with me, Heyou. It is important that you see this – all of this – for our future. There is more I must show you.”

“But why?” I shout but no sooner do the words escape my mouth then the light rushes toward me and pulls me into another memory.

I climb into the cart to join my friends. We are setting off on a journey. It is important but I can’t remember why. The cart rolls to a stop and we climb out. I recognize this building and the woman who greets us. This was my home once. Then I recall.

It is an orphanage and I lived here my entire life, yet I don’t remember why I was there. The woman, her names escapes me, was always kind to me and my companions. I feel protective of her. She tells us she has arranged for the transport of four “specials”. I don’t know what that means but I know it makes sense in this memory.

We show the woman a map we were given, and she helps us to determine all the places marked on it are also orphanages. Discussion takes place and we decide to take a few of the kids at this orphanage with us to keep them safe.

Specials. Those are kids that have something magical about them, but I don’t remember what. I just know that we must keep them safe as they are incredibly valuable. We decide to seal them in empty barrels before loading them in the cart and setting off.

A short time later we arrive at one of the orphanages marked on the map. There are three more barrels waiting for us. I have to protect them, but why?

That thought echoes multiple times in my head, growing exponentially louder each time. I clap my hands over my ears in a futile attempt to block it out and try to scream but it comes out muffled. Eventually, the sound of my voice gains power as the echoing thought dies away, and then I find myself screaming alone in the cold darkness.

I gain my bearings as I try to make sense of it, but the voice is there in my head immediately.

“You’re so close to understanding now, Heyou. I am so proud of you but you’re not there yet. Think, my precious warrior! Think back and remember!”

The light envelops me.

When the light fades, I hear a knock on a door. It is the front door to what I know to be my home, but not just my home. It is a base of operations and all my friends live here too.

An older man, thin and tired looking, is standing next to me. He is holding the severed head of a woman in his hands and looks very uncomfortable. I don’t know what is going on or why, but I tell the man to put the head in his closet.

Black Lizard goes to the door to see who has come to our place. The voice on the other side of the door says they are a representative of someplace called The Regency and that they come with full protection. I know this place and this declaration are somehow important, but I can’t recall why.

We open the door and a woman in trousers and a vest enters with a well-dressed gentleman of around 50 years behind her. The man tells us that this “Regency” sends its regards. He says someone wants to do business in our zone.

I tell than old, thin man – the others call him Sanjay – to remove all the gross stuff from the room. I specifically mention a doll for some reason. The doll appears to be old and worn and smells strongly of smoke. Something about this seems incredibly pertinent to this memory and I desperately claw at my mind for some sort of answer, but it keeps slipping away.

Sanjay produces and then sprinkles a bag of dust on the doll and the scent of cinnamon fills the room.

The man introduces himself as Over and says he has come to us to ask for us to do a job. He tells us he is the new head of something called “Free City Shipping.” When he mentions this, I notice a subtle reaction from my friends in the room, but I do not know why.

Over tells us this job he has in mind requires a group that is not well known. It seems Free City Shipping has taken on many new contracts but have run into a problem with their shipping routes being frequently assaulted. As a result, his company is out multiple carts, horses and shipments. He would like us to disguise ourselves as transporters in his employ and ride the delivery route.

We suggest to Over that something called the Rose Guild is responsible for the attacks on his shipping caravans and ask him what he knows of them. He says he is aware of the Rose Guild. Their leader is powerful and is making a name for himself.

The job Over wants us to do will take four days of riding. He is offering us food and shelter throughout the trip, as well as two black coins at the start and two black coins at the finish. I demand that he cover expenses too, offering that if he wants results, sometimes you have to spend a little bit of coin.

We shake on it and Over hands me the two black coins. I hold one up to regard it before handing them over to Black Lizard but find myself falling into the blackness of the coin. Like being sucked into a funnel of darkness, I am pulled back into the eternal darkness to which I awoke .

The voice is in my head before I can shake off the dizziness I find myself experiencing following the transition. It is still among the sweetest sounds I have ever heard but do I detect the faintest edge to it?

“Good, Heyou! You’re doing so, so wonderful. I just knew you had it in you. But you’re not done yet, my love. I need you to think REAL HARD this time.”

The light hits me like an iron-banded club.

I come to and I am woozy.

Black Lizard is performing some sort of religious ceremony over Caladryll. Sanjay is making food. Omelets, I think.

There is tension in the air. It is thick and I sense my own anger levels to be elevated. Everyone seems to be avoiding me. I did something but I do not know what.

There is a knock at the door, and I am thankful for it. The mood feels wrong.

Veego asks who it is but no one replies. He and Frankie refuse to open the door despite my insistence. I am the bravest person in the room – somehow, I know this – so I do it myself. On the ground, I see a purple box wrapped in a pink ribbon. I know that in this memory I know what it is, and in the memory, I am feeling downright giddy over it. But in my current reality, I don’t know what it is.

I give the gift to Mayella to open. This brings me some sort of sick satisfaction. Why though? What is in the box that I know she won’t like? I struggle and fight with my memories to chase away the fog.

A head.

It is the head of an enemy. I don’t know whose, but I know that is what it is.

I hear myself screaming if that is what this is all about as the darkness consumes me and yanks me out of the memory.

The voice is there but this time there is no question about it. There is now a hardness there.

“No, Heyou, my love, that’s not it. You need to think harder. You need to go farther back. You need to remember WHAT YOU DID!”

The light shatters me into millions of pieces. The pain is excruciating but it is nothing compared to the agony of the pieces stitching back together as I emerge from the light.

I find myself in a room. There is a fire burning in the hearth. I look down to find a doll in my hand. It is Mayella’s doll. Before I can force myself to understand why I am here and what I am doing with Mayella’s doll, I see myself tossing it into the fire.

Darkness explodes in my head. I feel as if my soul is being sucked out of my body and dragged into the frigid darkness. I awake in the void to find myself on the floor. Despite the oppressive cold I am sweating, and my breath is short. My heart is pounding so hard I clutch my hand to my chest for fear it will burst from my body.

The voice comes to me and this time has never sounded so sweet.

“Heyooooou! Are you ok, my warrior prince? I am so, so very proud of you. You did it, my love. You remembered all the way back. It’s ok. I forgive you. I know this can be difficult for you to understand. I am going to let you wake up now, but pretty please for me, will you just remember one thing?”

Just then a face shoots out of the complete opaqueness, stopping just inches of mine. Its eyes are glowing and bulging with unabashed rage. Its teeth bared with snarling, raw anger. It’s hair wild and crackling with energy. I scurry back in sheer horror, but I cannot escape the face. It remains just inches from my face and I can feel the eldritch power radiating from it. Suddenly I recognize the face. It is Mayella’s doll.

Lorelai.

“DON’T. EVER. DO. THAT. AGAIN!!!”

I gasp and sit up in a start, pulling deep draughts of air into my lungs. Debilitating fear courses through me as I whip my head about trying to get my bearings. I am laying in the dust of a road. Nearby, a cart burns uncontrollably, and the streets are filled with bodies, broken, bleeding and lying still in pools of crimson. I look up to see Black Lizard and Jillian standing over me, and their expressions turn from troubled to relieved.

I am finally able to steady my breath and realize there is a hand on my chest. I follow the arm to find it belongs to Mayella, who is kneeling next to me. Her eyes are closed as she pours healing magic into me.

Fear begins to seize me again though as I slowly move my eyes to Mayella’s other arm. And there I see it, cradled there. The doll.

Lorelai.

My eyes meet its and for a moment I am frozen. Then rationalization overtakes me and once again I steady my breath.

And then I hear it in my head.

“Hi, Heyou!”