Reload

This is attempt 248. I think. I didn’t start counting until I realised what was happening. Every time one of us dies, our Holy Champion xXxBigTiddiesFanxXx goes limp, like a broken marionette, the world dims black, and we find ourselves back at the beginning of our horrifying gauntlet.

At first it felt like I was stuck in some sort of terrible nightmare. A repeating loop where I had to watch my friends and heroes die in the most horrible ways. More than a few times, I was the one lying on the ground, crushed beneath the boot of the Cave Troll, the light of my life dimming as I saw our eternal leader go limp. The world would go black, and I’d be alive once again.

Now though, all I feel is boredom. I am stuck in a nightmare, but it isn’t one constructed of terrors and pain. Just tedium. Endless tedium, where the only surprise is what inane change to our routine will come next and the only certainty is that we will find ourselves back at the doors of this God damn dungeon once again.

Rogier steps through the threshold of the dungeon and lobs a meteor spell deep down the hallway. I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t know why. If he placed it right, the fireball will have wiped out three poison goblins. Carrine casts a holy barrier spell. Her eyes are wide, and she knows it is blasphemy to evoke the protection of God without any impending peril, but xXxBigTiddiesFanxXx represents our God, and has commanded it thusly. Some 150 attempts ago we learned that if she didn’t cast the spell now, it would always be too late later.

I step up and I thrust my sword into my own belly. The pain once fueled a bloodrage that let me take on enemies three times my size. Now the only anger I feel is at the pointlessness of the gesture itself, but it is enough to trigger the rage.

As a group we step further into the dungeon. We don’t walk normally, not any more. We step forward, sideways, forward, backwards, sideways, moving in fractions of a yard each time, an intricate dance that must look insane to outside observers. To Rogier and Carrine it is maddening. To me, I know that each incremental adjustment allows us to gain another yard through the dungeon itself.

Mid-dance each of us fires off spells at unseen enemies. When a foe gets close enough to be visible, it is parried and killed in moments. Traps are deftly dodged around and leapt over, poison puddles are avoided. Rogier takes an arrow to the face, but Carrine is already healing it as it pushes past his eye socket into his brain. The arrow would remain there until we return to town. If we could ever return to town.

The end of the dungeon bears a fog gate, and beyond it lies a terrible Scorpion beast–the foe we are here to defeat. Carrine befouls her oaths further before we pass it as Rogier exhausts himself lobbing fireballs through a tiny gap in the brickwork on one side. When we do enter the arena, the two of them already look defeated. But they are alive, for now.

Past the gate we roll like tumbling acrobats from a travelling circus, again moving in odd ways that appear to bear no correlation with the actions of our giant arachnid enemy. And yet all of its attacks miss, falling inches wide or high or short. xXxBigTiddiesFanxXx lives up to the prophetic stories of legend as they dive around the beast. Every few attacks sees them pull new weapons from seemingly nowhere. They change hats constantly. If I didn’t have these cursed memories, their actions would appear insane. They still do, because I know the outcome.

Carrine gets sideswiped by a tail strike, and she is thrown across the room. She tries to heal herself in mid-air but fails to pull it off before she crumples against the wall. I look to our champion, and I see them go limp.

But Carrine twitches aside the wall, and the inevitable black does not come. Our hero of legend springs to life again, vigor renewed.

Enough time has passed for Rogier’s spirits to return as well. He starts attacking once more, flinging fireballs with terrifying might. Carrine gets back up and heals herself. With one mighty blow I lop the tail from the Scorpid beast. The Flagbearer of Destiny xXxBigTiddiesFanxXx hoists the tail high and drives it into the head of our massive foe. It falls flat on the ground.

It isn’t until I see the looks on Carrine and Rogier’s faces that I understand what has happened.

We… we have won. We… succeeded. A smile warms my face like a sunrise on a cold winter’s day. The pains of my wounds sting me sweetly to remind me I’m alive. The scorpion body dissolves away and a chest stands before it instead. Our genius hero, who dragged us into this nightmare that all questgivers said was beyond our grasp, marches confidently over to the treasure and kicks it open.

“Shit, really?” xXxBigTiddiesFanxXx says, his anachronistic speech always bringing a smile to my face. He seems perturbed. “We low-rolled the reward. I’m not taking this.”

I don’t know what that means, but the Conqueror of Time throws the sword lazily at my feet. I look down and it is barely better than the one I currently wield. I glance closer… it might actually be worse. Still, we are monster-slayers, right? We kill for the glory, not the trinkets that come with victory. I look up, and I see confusion on the faces of Carrine and Rogier. Over by the chest, I see xXxBigTiddiesFanxXx gone limp. The world dims black.