Time is the Fire in Which We Burn

Chris pulled the pizza out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. He checked the mushrooms to make sure none of them had migrated across the equator. He wasn't sure of everyone's feelings towards the fungi - and after last session, he didn't want any incidents. He wondered if it was wise to be serving mushrooms today - in fact, he wondered why he chose tonight to try the Price Chopper pizza for the first time - and why mushroom? In hindsight it was odd behavior, in the very least. Had he some foresight, however, he would've ditched the pizza entirely and ran screaming out of the room... 

Everyone was still in a somber mood when Brother Flaedgate arrived. He softly begged pardon for interrupting Themuseleh's friends, but he wanted to know if anyone had dined on the mushrooms earlier in the day.

"I did," declared Old Crow. His stomach reflexively rumbled. "Why do you ask?"

Brother Flaedgate bustled up to him and looked him up and down. "Have you had any symptoms? Feel funny?" He put the back of a hand to Old Crow's cheek, his forehead. "See anything unusual?" Brother Flaedgate's rheumy eyes stared straight into eyes. "Anyone unusual?"

Old Crow paled. "Yes. A man. A mushroom man." Brother Flaedgate's hand dropped back to his side. He explained that some of the mushrooms he had been growing of late had become rather mischievous and were moving around in their garden beds in order to cause trouble. Old Crow started to laugh at just how ridiculous this sounded, before realizing that Brother Flaedgate had pretty much already known he'd seen a mushroom man without being told about it. He decided he just better listen.

"Come with me. We need to find which one you took in order to find the antidote."
"Antidote? Have I been poisoned?" There was only the slightest hint of concern in Old Crow's voice.
"Not exactly," said the monk. "Let's just say you're susceptible..."

By the time Alex had arrived, Bernie and Julia were already there and in high spirits. Puffing on her vape pen, Julia was in higher spirits than most. Chris poured Alex a beer. 

"So I may have another date with this girl I've been chatting with," Alex announced with a previously unheard-of calm. A whoop went up in the kitchen. Glasses were raised; toasts were made.

"Another girl? So soon after the last one?" Chris turned to Kaity. "Looks like our boy is growing up!" Alex blushed imperceptibly before going on with his story. He'd been Facebook chatting a girl he'd known since grade school. Things were going well. Looks like he'd be going out with the second girl in as many months. Not bad for a kid who had dropped out of the last D&D game when the game his life had gotten too chaotic.

Brother Flaedgate led Old Crow and the others down to his hut, which sat by the water on the other side of the village. He pointed to a large man-made jetty that jutted out into the lake. It was covered with plants, shrubs and mushrooms. It was also a labyrinth. The path that wove between the flora, and Old Crow took a tentative step into it. He was sure the plants reacted to his presence. He could hear a low, shrill whine. "The mushroom you ingested has an energy. It's flowing through your veins, through your body. When you reach the right group of fungi, they will respond."

Old Crow wasn't entirely sure he like the sound of that, but he turned his eyes back to the winding path ahead of him and resumed his slow, deliberate walk. As he wound his way through the first quadrant of the labyrinth, he heard things, felt things, but nothing happened.

Brother Flaedgate urged him on to the next quadrant. Things continued to be eerie, but nothing dramatic happened. Old Crow was starting to feel a low thrumming vibration through his moccasins when he stepped into the third quadrant...

The thing about DMing a game like this is that it's not the DMs job to determine events: its his job to interpret them. The dice are the medium through which this happens. The dice react to the play, and the play, in turn, reacts to the dice. Chris contemplated this as he picked up three twenties and rolled them.

11. 
1. 
11. 

Somewhere in here out there, the multiverse trembled.

Suddenly, at the center of the labyrinth, strange yellow mushrooms started to bubble and grow as if in some sort of time-lapse film. Brother Flaedgate stepped back in awe. "I don't believe this sort of thing has ever happened before," he quipped. Old Crow froze as the mass grew up, up, up out of the center and started to form a giant, sallow mushroom. By the time it stopped, the 'shroom was almost ten feet tall. A fissure opened up in the face of it. Acid-green light poured out. As the fissure widened, Old Crow cold see inside it, into a space that looked remarkably like the mushroom cave back in the catacombs. He looked back at the stunned monk, then turned and headed inside.

"OK, everybody roll a 20..." This is how Chris started every game. It used to be, back in the olden days right after college, that he would have players roll a number of 20s ahead of time so the players wouldn't know exactly what number was applied to what action. It was an attempt to keep the play flowing in a more natural way. But gamers are gamers, and they all want to feel the weight of each roll, to use their force of will to influence the die, especially at a crucial moment.

But after the last universe broke down campaign, these preliminary rolls came to be more of a weathervane - a way to open up the oracle and determine which way the wind was blowing. Chris learned that it was helpful to know beforehand if things were going to get... dicey.

Julia: "Four!"
David: "Eleven!"
Alex: "Seventeen!"
Chris, to himself: "Shit." 

A half-hour later, every last jug of maple syrup had been recovered from the cave mouth of the catacombs. Lamont and Pierre slapped each other on the back, extremely please at this fortuitous turn of events. Old Crow turned to Themuseleh and said that now was a good time to talk about the next phase of their journey. Jack Tripper was still on the loose, Lady Eris was captures and perhaps dead, and the way to Augustinian had yet to be planned. Themuseleh motioned the party to follow him back to his hut.

Once there, Old Crow, Elizabeth, Pierre and Lamont now sat around a table. The old wizard was circling the table as the group pored over the map that was unfurled upon it. Blue lines painted on parchment told of the quickest route to Augustinian.

"Water?" Old Crow was skeptical it could be so easy.

"The routes from the capital to here are well-known and well-mapped. Trade and commerce have a way of taming the wilderness in record time." He took a puff off his pipe. "You can be there in a matter of days."

"But how?" chimed in Lamont. "It's upstream the whole way. Even with statistically unlikely tailwinds, that trip takes a week at least."

Themuseleh smiled, and gave him a look.

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Lamont..." He motioned everyone to follow him out of the hut. He moved quickly for a man of his age, and was soon leading an impromptu parade down a path towards the lake. Elizabeth was the first to see a flat-bottomed boat with a rectangular sail lashed to a dock. A couple young men were moving things off of it. Themuseleh had a word with them, before inviting everyone on board.

"This is it?" said Lamont incredulously. "It doesn't look like it can make its way across the lake, let alone three days upstream..."

Themuseleh shook his head and chuckled softly. "Looks can be deceiving, my friend. And in this case, I assure you its every bit intentional." He led them to the cabin that sat at the back end of the boat. Inside it were a few crates, boxes, a small desk... and a chair.

"What you see here is the latest in watercraft navigation. I call it the Spellpeller. Someone with spellcasting abilities sits in the chair, and they become the ship, in a sense. They use their magical abilities to move the ship across the water. It allows the ship to move at an impressive rate and, with multiple spellcasters, you can move this ship at such speeds for days at a time." Elizabeth smiled. This was the sort of thing that could get you places. Pierre stared at the chair with an inexplicable sense of dread. Old Crow was silent. Lamont stepped forward immediately.

"I'll drive."

By the time Chris returned with a beer and sat down, the party had pretty much decided on a course of action. Lamont (because DTA wasn't there) would sit at the Spellpeller (just in case something went horribly wrong). The rest of the party would take on the guise of humble traders, moving ever so slightly faster than average upstream. They had a full complement of arms and armor (courtesy Holden's secret armory) and all three passwords for the Warp Marble (courtesy Themuseleh), and were looking forward to the journey.

"Alright, everyone roll a 20." Chris picked up three twenties himself. Here was the moment of truth. Things had been leading up to this point for months - cracks in reality had started to develop, whether any of the players had noticed it or not. Now it was time to test the cracks and see if they could be opened any wider. 
  
Julia: "Eighteen!"
David: "Sixteen!"
Alex: "Fourteen!"

The party congratulated themselves on what was surely a propitious omen. They had weapons, a ship, the Warp Marble and a purpose. What could possibly go wrong?

Chris rolled the three twenties.


 

All smiles disappeared. The game was up. Things were about to get weird.

Elizabeth was the first to spot the man in a long cowl standing on the shore of an island in the middle of the river. They had been traveling upstream for a couple hours without incident, and she was beginning to get bored. But the sight of a man beckoning to them perked her up a bit. She pointed him out to Old Crow. They decided to check him out.

"Welcome, travelers!" the man called out. "I have been waiting for you for quite some time!" As Lamont steered the boat to shore, they could see a long, gray-green snout sticking out from the cowl. It looked.... reptilian. Still, the creature's manner exuded calm. He greeted them one by one and seemed to be familiar with each one of them. He was carrying a carven staff, and he leaned on it with every step as he led them into the woods that covered the island.

"Yes, many years, MANY years!" Pierre had asked how long he'd been waiting for them. "I was trained by my mother, the last Watcher-on-the-Isle. She described you to me for the first time thirty years ago, on this very night." The party looked at each other with increasing skepticism. It would seem they'd found a loon.

He led them down a path towards some lights that were coming from a clearing up ahead. A ring of torches circled a giant mound of some sort. They could see a pile of earth, looming up over their heads, and in the middle of it...

A ship.

A turtle ship.

Half buried in the clearing.

"Oh my! What a cool ship! I wonder how it got here? Want to explore it? Guys? GUYS?"

Pierre, Old Crow and Lamont stood very still. They stared at the ship in existential awe. None of them had any idea why they were rooted to the spot, frozen for a moment, frozen out of time. But the moment soon passed, and the sound of Elizabeth's trailed off as she turned to them. She looked from one pair of eyes to another, concern clouding her face.

"Are you three alright? You all look as if you'd seen a ghost!"

The three of them turned to one another, and recognizing their own looks on the others' faces, looked back silently towards the ship.

"Perhaps we have," said Old Crow.