dungeons and dragons

[WP] D&D, You are a warlock who doesn't use eldritch blast, since to use it you must say the name of your patron, and you have kinda forgotten their name after they introduced themselves, and have been calling them "master", "my liege", "dude"...

*****

Greatness, plucked from the sands of time becomes the glass that holds the causality together. Picture it, farming communities throughout the land buying their time, teaching their young, and praying to the lords above. Power, swiftness, knowledge, and wisdom pulse through a kingdom faster than the blood that any oathbreaker or cursed wizard could spill.

I… wasn’t any of that. I was a porter. I carried things from one place to another and usually had to have whoever it was giving me a task to write it down. I learned later to write it on me but even when I lost that little slip of linen, I loved wandering around to find my stop. Well, I used to love wandering. That passion filled my soul with new places, smells, and experiences. As a youth, I was forever filling a cup that seemed to leak for as new experiences went in the old ones seemed to vanish.

That’s when I found my lord. Heeeeee….errr, they. They? They are most merciful and more than generous with their gifts. Sad to say that there are specific requirements that come with those gifts so I am not able to use all of them as I probably should. That’s fine. I had come to terms with that until I found a way better job than porter. Adventurer. Seemed mysterious and promised lots of wandering, which in my mind was fantastic.

However, it is hard to join the group of people that I have described above. The sort of wandering batch of forever good, born and bred, take on any challenge orphans. I’m still not sure if there was something there. Are all of them supposed to be orphans or was there some sort of curse to that? My parents are alive. They are just disappointed but I do send letters and visit on the high holidays.

Anyway. Where was I? I shouldn’t ask that question because in the last four years I don’t think I have ever known where I was. I do remember the creatures though. Those are seared into my mind as an endless living nightmare that even my lord cannot save me from. I remember the mines the most vividly. The waking nightmare of flame and death assaulted us for hours as we ran out of food and then the snacks and then the secret staff of stress food I kept in my bag. Worst of all were the words spoken.

“Who let the sorcerer get at the rations?” I heard screams as fire rippled around us.

“That’s just his,” someone called back, “I have ours.”

See, they were holding out on me! I thought I was going to starve but they still had food. An entire pack of food that could quell the hurricane in my stomach as death and chaos whipped around us. The argument that night was not pleasant and I ended up trying red dragon for the first time. Not bad, really chewy though and had this ungodly gamy taste to it. Probably work in a stew if you double-cooked it.

Anyway, something that I should point out is that my party doesn’t know about me, I am not a sorcerer. I am actually a warlock. Don’t ask me ‘of whom’ though as my lord is mysterious and only told me their name once. I do have a mark. It hurt a lot to get it but I was proactive. I thought a long complicated name that I had trouble pronouncing at the moment, better get that written down. Now what I didn’t expect was the mark to ripple and change slightly over time. It is also a very clear symbol and not a name that I can try and pronounce. That was just an hour of pain for no reason other than to get something I now have to hide.

To my party, I am a sorcerer with the blood of a white dragon. Seemed smart, they are sort of evil and I am now sort of evil. I try not to be but such is life. White dragons aren’t that bright and I forget a lot of things so I come off as believably unintelligent. I am not. I know many things. I could fill at least a small stack of books on all the things I know. Worst case, I know more than the barbarian with us. I had a third point. What was the third point? Or is this just usually want to give three points? No wait, it’s I use cold spells that my liege has taught me. Haha, I remembered.

Anyway, after the mines and getting our rewards, and a night just eating actual food instead of stale bread and hard meat we finally made our way to a place that I wanted to go, Candlekeep Library. I had books, not ones that I had made, that were rare enough to enter the fortress and important enough that I kept a close eye on them. We traveled on horseback for days. Days! I could not stop thinking about horse stew the entire time.

We passed the entrance, bribed/paid the guards or whatever good words the party used to justify it, and I finally made my way to the library. I was going to unlock my true power. My actual power. All I needed was my lord's true name, which I will carve into my skin this time. Self-awareness is the greatest power of them all. Well, the second greatest, the fireball was pretty cool and it did so much damage that I got yelled at long enough that I still remember it.

I started with dragon books just to keep up the ruse but eventually made my way to the dark and mysterious section. Cobwebs and layers of dust covered these ancient books. Opening them I saw page after page of symbols and star charts the life's work of many men that had before me. I knew I was in the right place.

“Why are looking at the astronomy books?” a voice beside me had my head snap to attention. A young page stood looking rather confused at my rumpled state.

“I am here to learn the secrets of the universe,” I whispered, still trying to understand the book I was holding. Was my lord the Astronomy the page spoke of?

“I thought you were here to learn about the secrets of dragons?” the page asked back.

“That too,” I muttered and frowning at the floor. Looking up at the young… elf? If it was an elf was it young? I don’t know. Should I be thinking he’s young? Wait, is he a he? Looking carefully at the creature I tried to discern if the sharp cheekbones were any indication of their gender. Frowning, I asked, “What was I doing?”

“Man, if you don’t know, I definitely don’t know,” the elf explained.

“I am looking for the voice in my head,” I blurted out before correcting myself, “I mean white dragons.”

“Internal monologue or like there’s an actual voice in your head?” the page asked.

“Possibly a voice,” I admitted, “my lord is mysterious.”

“Makes sense,” the elf nodded, walked over to me, and replaced the book that I had back onto the shelf, “most are. You won’t find information here though. You need the eldritch section.”

“Good,” I said with a nod, “I mean bad. They are bad. I shouldn’t be looking in that section. Right?”

“Wrong?” the elf scoffed, “It’s for knowledge. The first question though is have you tried just asking for guidance.”

“Yes,” I muttered as I walked with the elf, “every time I ask my lord what it is I need I get a clear vision but it doesn’t do anything.”

“What’s the vision?” the elf asked, pausing to look at a map and then turning down a long corridor. “I may be able to help if it’s a vision of the past.”

“I think it’s the future,” I explained, “No one seems to understand it but it’s not like the other names I call out. I’ve tried chanting, ‘My Lord, Adderall. Guide me!’ but nothing happens.”

“Maybe Adderall is something you need rather than a name,” the elf explained, “it does sound like a name though.”

“That’s what I thought,” I admitted, “I have also tried just saying, ‘dude, I need your help,’ but that just gives me a headache.”

“Probably not a good idea to call a creature capable of telepathy dude,” the elf laughed, “that’s probably insulting.”

“I’m fine with it and I’m a telepath,” I explained.

“Really?” the elf asked.

Pretty cool, right? I projected to him.

“Yes,” the elf chuckled, “and that narrows the search down quite a bit.”

*****

TO BE CONTINUED