The Campaigners

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.”

Loud groans broke out around the fire before the plump fairy could strum the first note on her guitar.

“Come on Brit, not this one again.”

She huffed, her bangles jangling discordantly across the strings. “Well I only know two songs, and it’s this one or Achy Breaky Heart so….”

“No yeah, we definitely want Dragons in the Valley.” Says Jergen, the gold bands around his thick orc tusks glinting in the flames as he grins.

His sister Val gave him a warning look through a veil of dreads, which he ignored.

“Whatchu think, Mike?”

The skinny redhead raised his beer can in salute. “You don’t want to hear her attempt country music man, trust me on that one.”

“Rude.”

Mike yelped as Brit snapped his cheek with the tip of her wing. “I’m just kidding! You know I prefer your version of Achy Breaky Heart over Billy Rae Cyrus' any day.”

Jergen kicked back in his chair. “Yeah Brit, you know we’re just having a laugh. You’re a good bard.”

“Thank you,” She said, tossing her long pink braids over her shoulder, “but for your information, I’m not just a good bard, I’m a great one.”

“You sure are, babe.” Mike hurried to agree.

“Aw! Thanks sweetheart.”

As the couple kissed, Jergen made fake gagging sounds and was rewarded by a slap in the arm by his sister.

He rubbed the spot with a wince. “Alright Val, no need to let your berserker rage out on me yet. At least hold off until I've done something really stupid.”

"We probably won't have to wait long for that." Said a small, hissing voice.

Mike snorted.

Val hid her smile by downing the last of her beer, then lobbing the empty can towards the source of the voice on the other side of the fire. “Incoming, Hel!”

The small black cat immediately pounced on it, though she was surrounded by at least five other empty cans. All of them were punctured with tiny teeth and claw marks.

Britney strummed a few idle chords on her guitar before asking, “When's it going to be cake time? I’m starving!”

"I guess now's a good time as any," Said Val. "Jergen?"

“Yeah, alright.”

She pulled the keys to their van out of her pocket and tossed them in his general direction. He had to lean back to catch them, and as the front legs of his chair lifted off the ground, the cat chose that moment to rub against the bottom of his foot.

He flailed, teetering on the edge of pitching over backward. Titters broke out around the fire as he barely managed to right himself.

"Yeah alright, good one Hel," He said to the gloating cat as he got to his feet. "But you're gonna have to try a little harder than that."

He left the circle of light with a jaunty salute, his footsteps crunching on the leaves and pine needles that covered the ground. Pretty soon they heard the sound of the van door slide open, and he began to whistle.

Val busied herself with grabbing plates, forks, cups, and napkins from one of the bags at her feet. “Does anyone want milk?”

Mike raised his hand. “Definitely me.”

She poured him a cup, and with a twitch of his fingers the cup floated out of her palm and towards his hand.

The cat took a swipe at it before getting distracted by a bug flying by. She jumped up on the log to chase it, and Val had to snatch the plates before they fell into the dirt.

“What kind did of cake you bring this time?” Britney asked.

“Funfetti.”

“Ooh, my favorite!”

“You say that about every cake Val bakes.” Mike reminded her.

“Yeah, so? Can’t they all be my favorite?”

“The whole point of having a favorite is to narrow down the types of things you like into a comprehensive list. Not everything can be at the top, because then ‘favorite’ means nothing, and you’d have to pick some other word to describe your favorite, favorite thing, like-”

“Sublime favorite?”

He pointed at her. “Exactly!”

“Well then funfetti is my sublime favorite.”

“Thank you.”

“But her vanilla buttercream with caramel sauce and pecans is pretty great too.”

Mike groaned.

After filling three more cups and setting them aside, Val pulled out a plastic bowl. “You want some milk, Hel?”

The cat didn’t appear to be listening. She’d abandoned her chase and was now staring off in the direction of the van, ears twitching.

“Would you please stop doing that big eye thing? It’s kind of freaking me out.”

“Jergen stopped whistling.” The cat hissed out at last.

“Huh, weird. I wonder what’s taking him so long.”

“Maybe he had to take a leak.”

Britney stared at Mike in disgust. “With the cake?”

“I don’t know, maybe!”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Val frowned. “At least it’s difficult to get lost out here. I’m pretty sure you can see this fire for a hundred feet in every direction, even through the trees.”

“Speaking of getting lost,” Mike said. “How’d you find this place anyway? It seems a little remote for casual campers.”

Val shrugged. “I didn’t find it, Jergen did.”

All eyes turned to Val in surprise.

She didn’t seem to notice.

Brit was the first to recover. “What?”

“He was on a campaign with his friends a few days ago, and he met a guy on their way back who mentioned this place. Said there were lots of hiking trails to follow if he wanted an adventure. He even gave him this crazy detailed map so we could find it. Jergen lost it as soon as we got here though.”

Hel hissed and immediately darted off into the night.

Mike let out a long sigh.

“What?”

Britney threw her hands in the air. “Come on Val, really? Your brother is a nice, friendly guy, but even you can’t deny he’s about as insightful as a rock!”

“I know but-”

Britney continued on, undeterred. “In what universe is it smart to head off to the butt crack of nowhere because some random guy said it had great hiking opportunities? You know where else has great hiking opportunities? Hollywood hills! San Francisco! Fashion Island!”

The cat finally reappeared in the circle of light. “He’s gone.”

Val leapt to her feet. “What?”

“I’ve checked the perimeter, and I can’t find him anywhere. There’s tracks though, like someone dragged away something heavy, and a strange smell. I know you’ll be able to identify it better than I can.”

“Show me.”

Mike and Britney scrambled to their feet as Val took off after the cat at a sprint. They circled around to the driver’s side of the van, where the rear sliding door was still open, and the cake container was lying upside down halfway underneath the undercarriage. Nothing else appeared to be disturbed, but as the cat said, there were strange shuffling marks leading off into the woods.

After following the trail for ten feet or so, they found the keys to the van and one of Jergen’s golden tusk bands lying on a bed of singed leaves. There was also a strong smell lingering in the air, like sulfur and hot metal.

“Magma.” Val said heavily.

The four friends shared a worried look.

“Mike, get the bag of holding.”

“On it.”

“Brit, get the potions from the cooler will you?”

After a quick nod she hurried away.

“Hel, you mind being rear guard?”

“You have to ask?” The cat instantly transformed into a small Indian girl with a sheet of black hair and yellow eyes.

The couple rejoined them less than a minute later with a plain leather bag and a handful of jackets. Hel slipped on her hoody before snatching the bag from Mike’s hand and pulling a mysterious array of knives from its depths. She stashed them in the various pockets in her pants, and some in her boots. When she was finished she handed the bag back to him and he slung it securely across his chest.

“Mike, conjure up some low light, would you?”

A few moments later a small ball of pale white light appeared and hovered a few feet above them.

“It’ll only last for an hour.” He said, wiping sweaty hands on his jeans.

“Hopefully we won’t need it for an hour, but…”

“But knowing our luck,” Mike nodded. “Yeah.”

“Knowing Jergen’s luck you mean.” Hel mumbled.

Val looked troubled.

“Well,” Brit said brightly. “It’s no matter. We’ll find him and everything will be fine, just like always. But we should definitely pack some snacks for when we do find him so we can celebrate.”

She grabbed the cake container and dropped it in Mike’s hands before patting his cheek. “Besides, we wouldn’t want the one and only human in our party to get low blood sugar like last time now would we?”

Hel snorted.

He rolled his eyes. “Why did I know you were going to bring that up?”

“Because we all had to listen to you complain nonstop for three hours, and it was very, very annoying.”

“She’s right,” said Val, folding her arms. “It was.”

The container was big, but he somehow managed to shove it into the mouth of the bag. “There, happy?”

Brit gave him a small peck on the cheek. “Yes."

"Throw me the longsword, will you?" Val asked.

When he pulled out the blade, the air seemed to drop a few degrees, and dark whispers could be heard emanating from its shimmering black metal. He tossed it quickly to Val, who caught it in midair.

Hel took a few shuffling steps away. “That thing is so creepy.”

“Yeah,” Val said, giving it a twirl. “I haven’t fed it any souls in a while. But we might need it. The Blackrazor’s stats are off the charts.”

“Sure. But it’s still creepy.”

“Says the shapeshifter who thinks it’s funny to wake us up in the middle of the night to drop dead rats on our sleeping bags.”

Hel grinned at Britney. “It is funny, if you have the right sense of humor.”

“A freaky sense of humor, maybe.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mike said, clearly not sorry at all, “but the orb’s light is wasting and we might have to save Jergen from a fire breathing entity. So if you wouldn’t mind taking this conversation on the road?”

The mood immediately sobered as they took one last look at each other and fell into line. Since Val was the most talented scout, she walked in the lead while Hel took up the rear. Mike had his quarterstaff in his hand, and potions strung across his belt, ready to employ at a moment’s notice.

The trail wasn’t difficult to follow. Heavy drag marks slithered through the trees, along with a trail of charred and broken branches. Every once in a while the trail ended, forcing them to stop while Val scouted ahead. Each time they picked up the trail again, it led them into a thicker copse of trees. Pretty soon, even the normal ambiance of the woods faded away, as if they were entering a dimension of silence.

An hour passed, and the light of the orb sputtered out. Thankfully the moon was bright enough to show the path, even through the dense canopy of the trees. They agreed they didn’t want to risk any unnecessary light.

Thirty minutes later Mike started to mumble and drag his feet.

After about ten minutes of this, Hel’s voice rang out from behind them. “For the love of all that is holy, give the humie some cake so he’ll shut up!”

“It’s not my fault I’ve got a fast metabolism.” Mike snapped.

“Aren’t you glad we brought this?” Brit said calmly as she brought out the container and offered a slice of cake to her boyfriend.

He muttered something unintelligible around a mouthful of funfetti and lemon cream frosting. He polished off his slice in less than a minute and went for another.

Val was a few paces away, leaning heavily on the moaning Blackrazor as her eyes scanned the perimeter.

“Why is Jergen always the damsel in distress?” Hel asked no one in particular.

Mike put up his fingers and ticked them off one by one. “Because you’re too clever to be tricked, Brit’s too charming, and nobody would dare mess with Val. But Jergen -”

“Is an idiot?” Hel suggested.

“I wouldn’t put it exactly like that.”

“I would.”

“Yeah well, I’m sorry my brother had the audacity to drag you away from your relaxing vacation by getting kidnapped,” Val snapped. “You know, he didn’t complain half so much about rescuing you that time you crawled into a cardboard box after he told you it was a trap, and you ended up lost in a sorcerer’s maze.”

Brit winced. Mike stuffed another piece of cake in his mouth.

Hel had the good graces to look ashamed. After a tense moment or two she slunk forward and put a tentative hand on Val’s shoulder. “He’s going to be fine Val. He’s one of the best barbarians around. And when we find him, I might even tell him that to his face.”

The orc let out a huff of air as she laughed. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“We’re almost there, anyway. I think the smell is getting stronger.”

“Wherever there is.” Added Brit.

“I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a castle or a cave,” Mike said as he packed away the remaining half a cake and got to his feet. “It’s always a castle or a cave when there’s a lair in the forest.”

It was only twenty minutes later when the drag marks led them into a clearing. A few yards beyond it was a creek with a small footbridge leading across. On the other side there appeared to be nothing more than brush and more trees.

They eyed it suspiciously. The bridge looked like it was as good as new.

“Mike?”

They stood behind him as his hands moved in an increasingly elaborate pattern through the air. While he muttered, purple began to pulse through his finger tips, and when the light reached a crescendo he pushed his hands forward. A wave of color flooded toward the creek with indomitable intent.

Except it never reached the other side.

It struck the middle of the bridge as if hitting a wall, the purple wave rushing upwards of thirty feet into the air. A brief, distorted image of a castle flickered as the wave receded, then disappeared.

Mike pumped his fist. “I knew it!”

“A castle,” Brit speculated. “That probably means there’s going to be a lot of trap rooms.”

“Right," Val nodded. "Alright everyone, gear up.”

“Hiking adventure my ass,” Hel muttered.

One by one they pulled out armor and other items of magical origins from the satchel. Hel adjusted her knives and briefly summoned her floating, spectral weapon: a tiger claw. She shadow boxed while Brit fit on her vambraces, and warbled out an off-key tune:

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There used to be lovers who met by the river, every full moon on a hot summer’s eve…”

Val hummed along as the fairy made her way awkwardly through the verses, but they fell silent when Mike finished cinching the straps to his breastplate and pulled four shimmering green vials from his belt.

The friends stood in a circle, looking each other over with nods of approval. They’d been campaigning together for a long time, and knew each other’s moves by heart. If they couldn’t rescue Jergen, then no one could.

Mike handed out the vials and they uncorked in tandem before raising their left wrists.

“Synchronize watches in three, two, one.”

Together they hit start, and downed the bottles.

Britney coughed violently, her eyes watering. “Why does the potion of resistance have to taste so bad?”

Mike burped, releasing a puff of green smoke. “Because I’m not a sorcerer’s apprentice and I had to get my ingredients from the dollar store, alright?”

Hel licked her lips. “It's not so bad. I’d rank it somewhere between bats and lizards.”

“Ew, Hel. That’s disgusting!”

“However you think it tastes, it’ll do the trick,” Val said before turning to the bridge, her expression grim. “Now come on. It’s time to go save my dumb brother's ass.”