Marvel: The DnD Game Master in the Shadows

Chapter 3: More than Full Party



In a quiet corner of the neighborhood, nestled away from prying eyes, a congregation of homeless souls sought refuge from the unforgiving elements. Amongst the labyrinthine alleyways and concealed underground passages, approximately five hundred displaced individuals had sought solace here. And now, at this very moment, Jason stood before an assembly that possessed an intriguing and distinctive quality.

Beside him stood Tommie, the young girl he had encountered earlier. Together, they encircled a weathered oil barrel, now ablaze, its flames casting a warm embrace over the surrounding expanse. Yet, the collective gaze of the group that confronted them brimmed with skepticism and uncertainty. Five boys comprised the group, each one either crossing their arms defiantly, doing their own thing, or narrowing their eyes with suspicion.

Breaking the silence, a boy with tawny skin and curly hair stepped forward. "So," he began, his voice resonating with curiosity, "Who’s this?"

"This is Jason—Jason Carter," Tommie interjected, gesturing towards the boy beside her. "He saved me from Tombstone's men earlier."

"Tombstone, huh? So they're catching up to us?" spoke another boy, his features denoting Asian descent. He was slightly overweight and of shorter stature.

"They beat me up," Tommie sighed, a hint of weariness clouding her expression.

"But you don’t look like you've just taken a beating," observed a different boy, his hair red like Jason's, yet his eyes a vivid shade of green.

“It’s a long story…” Tommie murmured, catching a glance at Jason who was still quiet. “Anyway, I didn't manage to get the porridge for obvious reasons, I only got this.” She then put a sack that contained some apples to the ground, to which her group took it instantly. “Jason gave it to us, though the apples don’t taste that—”

Before she could say anything, the quickest boy who took a bite of the apple, the asian boy, spat it out. “What is this?” his face scrunched up. “Doesn’t taste like apples at all!”

“As I said…” Tommie grumbled. “The apple tastes bland.”

“Is it rotten or something?”

“No, it’s just how it is.” Jason, who was quiet, finally spoke.

“How’d you get this many?” the tawny skinned boy asked, opening up the sack to check the rest of the apples.

“It’s a long story…” Jason simply said.

"Second time hearing that," the tawny-skinned boy directed at Tommie. "You've called it a 'long story,' and now he said it too. Keeping secrets now?"

Tommie rolled her eyes, her arms crossing defiantly. "It’s really a long story. Jason, this is Manny Merengues."

She gestured towards the heavier-set Asian boy. "And this is Larry Lee."

Her finger then pointed at the redhead boy. "Here's Robert Lubowski."

Moving on, she indicated an African-American boy who remained absorbed in reading a book in a distant corner. "Dick Dawson."

Finally, her attention shifted to a boy with a white-Hispanic appearance, who was engrossed in the melodies emanating from a dilapidated music player. "And, this is Raul Ruiz."

"Cool," Jason responded with a nonchalant hum. "This is definitely a full party, alright. You guys up for a game?"

The tawny-skinned boy, Manny, arched an eyebrow in skepticism. "A game?"

"DnD," Tommie uttered with a smile.

"What?" Manny inquired. "What's that?"

"It's a bit lengthy to delve into right now," Jason sighed, his gaze shifting. He then turned towards Tommie. "You trust them with your life?"

"I've had them in my life as far back as my memory goes," Tommie shrugged nonchalantly.

"Alright, yet just to err on the side of caution..." Jason's gaze settled on the five boys before him. He then intoned an unfamiliar incantation, prompting a flicker of unease to ripple through the boys.

"Video veritatem."

A torrent of thoughts flooded Jason's mind, a deluge of insights into their current mental states. Distrust, fear, confusion; however, a sliver of trust clung to them, perhaps owing to Tommie's implicit confidence. For the present moment, they appeared to be reliable.

"What did you do?" Tommie's curiosity got the better of her.

"Just checking up on your friends," Jason shrugged indifferently. "In any case, you guys ready?"

"Ready for what?" Larry, the Asian boy, frowned, gradually inching away.

"This," Jason uttered simply and snapped his fingers.

In an instant, the group's field of vision surrendered to darkness.

===DnDnD===

Tonight has taken a sharp turn for the worse. Initially, their concern centered around Tommie's well-being. They teetered on the edge of deciding whether to abandon the underground tunnel in search of her. Just as that consideration edged closer to reality, a surprising twist occurred. Tommie reappeared, accompanied by an unfamiliar boy. While the stranger did bring food, Manny's experienced eye recognized the uneasy pattern. He'd encountered numerous instances of human trafficking that had originated with abductors offering sustenance to the homeless or the vulnerable.

Admittedly, the stranger was a mere boy, but Manny's skepticism now rings true. As his vision slowly regains clarity, the truth unveils itself. The surroundings shift into view: a stark, doorless white room. Bewilderment takes hold as they find themselves sprawled across the ground, grappling to comprehend the recent events.

“What was that?!” Raul shouted, his music player seems to be missing.

“I-I don’t know…” Tommie spoke out.

“Who is that boy, Tommie?!” Larry spoke out. “What’s going on right now?!”

“I-I don’t know, okay?!” Tommie shouted back. “H-He had powers, and h-he said he could teach u–”

“Powers?” Manny asked, he’s more calm than the others.

“You know, like Thor’s power?”

“What the heck, Tommie?! You fell for that?!” Robert looks quite angry.

“Shut up, I’ve seen it myself!” she defended herself. “He can shoot lasers from his hands!”

“Oh my god…” Raul groaned. “Seriously?”

But suddenly, something appeared in their vision that startled all of them.

CHOOSE YOUR CLASS

Barbarian

Bard

Cleric

Druid

Fighter

Monk

Paladin

Ranger

Rogue

Sorcerer

Warlock

Wizard

"What's this?" stammered Dick Dawson, the African-American boy, his surprise evident as the 'screen' materialized before him. Singular for each individual, these screens presented an identical image to all, but the contents were visible only to the one beholding it. 

"It's telling us to choose…" Manny whispered introspectively. His finger hesitated over the options, finally alighting on 'Warlock'—it held an undeniable allure, it sounded cool to him. With his touch, a new screen materialized, as if in response to his decision.

WARLOCK

“Bound by a pact to an all-powerful patron, warlocks trade their loyalty for supernatural abilities and unique magic.”

Primary Ability: Charisma

Choose?

[Yes][No]

"Magic?" Manny muttered once more, his voice a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

A sudden interruption came from Larry, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "H-Hey guys…" His words hung in the air, drawing the attention of the group. “I-I picked one…”

"What?" Tommie's inquiry held a blend of surprise and eagerness. "What did you pick?"

Larry hesitated briefly before answering, his words stumbling over each other. "B-Barbarian. It told me to adjust a bunch of numbers. I didn't really get it, so I just followed the recommendation..." His explanation trailed off, leaving a sense of unease in the room. "After that, it says to wait for the party."

Tommie's voice resonated with understanding. "That must be us."

Robert, however, seemed less convinced. His brows furrowed as he voiced his doubts. "What? So you're just going to dive into this without question? This whole thing looks sketchy as heck."

Raul's sigh was heavy with resignation. "Do we even have a choice? We should probably just pick and get this over with."

Robert's skepticism remained unwavering. "Fine, then. What did you pick?"

"Bard," Raul replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "But now it's prompting me to choose more things. Spells and cantrips... I have no idea what any of this is."

"Spells? Like magic?" Larry's regret was palpable. "Damn it, I should've gone for anything other than Barbarian!"

Raul's retort was laced with a hint of amusement. "So, is this real? Those powers Tommie mentioned?"

Amidst the conversation, Dick's quiet voice broke in once again, drawing attention to the room's peculiar details. His gaze was fixed on the wall, his fingers reaching out to touch it tentatively. "It's... weird," he mused, almost to himself. "It's like... it's not real."

Manny shifted his focus from the screen before him to Dick's discovery, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" he asked, his attention momentarily diverted from the choices presented on his own screen.

"Look," Dick continued, his fingertip making contact with the wall's surface. As if in response, a fleeting ripple of colors danced across the wall, resembling a spectrum of rainbows before vanishing. "It's like touching a wet painting."

Tommie's sense of urgency reasserted itself. "Let's not get sidetracked. The faster we get through this, the sooner we can confront him and demand answers."

A silent agreement passed between the group members. Manny returned his gaze to the screen, his eyes scanning the available options once more. Despite exploring the alternatives, he found himself inexorably drawn back to his initial choice: the Warlock.

His selection made a new screen materialized before him, prompting him to choose a subclass. Manny deliberated over the options presented, his attention caught by a particular subclass that held a distinct allure.

CHOOSE SUBCLASS

[The Fiend]

“Warlocks in service to fiends work towards corrupting, destructive ends - intentionally or otherwise - and receive hellish blessings in turn.” 

Subclass Feature: [Dark One’s Blessing]

 

Dark One’s Blessing

When you kill a hostile creature, this gift from your patron grants you temporary extra life based on your Charisma.

He had no prior understanding of the term 'extra life,' yet it immediately seized his attention. It's as if he's inking an unholy pact, with all this discourse about 'patrons,' 'hell,' and 'destruction' that's been transpiring—enough to send a tremor down his spine. But oddly, an undercurrent of exhilaration accompanies these sensations.

Upon selecting his designated 'subclass,' another interface materialized, prompting him to elect two 'Cantrips.' The meaning eluded him, but he opted for those that resonated with potent force and utility.

[Eldritch Blast] and [Friends].

Once more, the screen beckoned him to designate two spells, the nuance between these and 'cantrips' escaping him, yet he proceeded.

[Hellish Rebuke] and [Armor of Agathys].

Lastly, it appeared to be the ultimate decision, the allotment of Ability points. Mimicking Larry, he adhered to the recommended allocations.

ASSIGN ABILITY POINTS

Strength: 8

Dexterity: 14

Constitution: 14

Intelligence: 14

Wisdom: 9

Charisma: 17

Finally, he confirmed all of it, and a final screen popped up, telling him to wait for the rest of the party.

But, not even a second later, the screen quickly changed to a blank.

“Everyone finished?” Manny asked, and everyone nodded.

A moment later, the screen presented a textual message.

[Welcome to the tutorial campaign. Initiating transportation in 3… 2… 1…]

And in the next heartbeat, their collective sight plunged into darkness once more.

===DnDnD===

The sudden realization washed over them as the sensation of dust tickled their fingertips. Blinking open their eyes, they found themselves amidst the vast expanse of an empty coliseum. Not a single soul in the stands, only the collective gaze fixed upon each other in their... peculiar attire.

Manny stood transformed, clad in leather armor, a long sword comfortably slung across his back. A quick glance revealed Larry, his friend, standing bare-chested, cradling a massive axe in his sinewy arm. Robert, similarly attired to Manny, gripped a bow with practiced ease. Dick donned a robe and grasped a staff, while Raul sported medieval-esque attire complete with trousers, an odd drum strapped before him. And then there was Tommie, draped in a sleeveless robe that seemed to embody her newfound confidence.

“Welcome.” A sudden voice shattered the silence. It echoed from above, commanding attention. All eyes turned upwards, finding Jason suspended in the sky, an enigmatic smile dancing upon his lips, hands nonchalantly folded behind his back.

"What on earth is this?!" Robert's outburst sliced through the air, his skepticism tangible. "You some sort of devil?"

"Devil? Well, the folks back in the 80s might have mistaken this game for a devil's ritual, but no," Jason's response dripped with a tranquil assurance. "Your friend Tommie asked for powers that I showed her, so here you are, playing  a campaign."

All gazes converged on Tommie, daggers of annoyance piercing her direction.

“So what are we doing here?” Tommie shouted to Jason. “What are you supposed to do in this ‘game’?”

"Me? I'm the Dungeon Master," Jason shrugged nonchalantly, slowly descending to the dusty ground. As he made contact, the vast emptiness of the coliseum transformed into a lively scene, with an uproarious crowd filling the once-vacant seats. "Here, I am God, the narrator, the weaver of tales. Finish this campaign, and you will get out of here, obtaining the very power you wield right now in the real world."

"So, all of this... It's real?" A gasp swept through the group as Dick conjured a flickering flame within his palm, a testament to the reality they now occupied.

With realization dawning, Manny discovered an instinctual knowledge bubbling within him: the art of casting spells, the precision of attacking, a spectrum of newfound abilities.

“Yes.” Jason simply answered. “You’ll be fine, it’s only the tutorial, you’ll just fight a few enemies.”

“We’ll have this… power once we get back, right?” Tommie asked again, clenching her fist.

“Again, yes, Tommie.” Jason sighed. “So, are you guys ready?”

Tommie's gaze scanned her companions, their faces a tapestry of anxiety and excitement. Tonight had unceremoniously thrust them onto an emotional rollercoaster. Once homeless, now something else entirely... who could predict?

“Good.” Jason smiled, he didn’t need to hear a spoken confirmation. “You won’t regret this, I’m sure. Or maybe you will? Well, up to you, I guess.”

Jason's attention pivoted to the raised dais above, a simple snap of his fingers conjuring a figure draped in Roman garb. The crowd erupted in approval as the figure emerged.

"Let the games..." the figure's voice resonated, punctuated by a dramatic pause. "Commence!"

With a final smile directed at the group, Jason's form wavered, then vanished. The crowd's clamor crescendoed as an iron door on the opposite side of the coliseum swung open. The air thrummed with anticipation.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.