0: A Dungeons & Dragons Ride

Presto smells the smoke before he sees it. A dozen flashbacks to the adventures with his old friends roll into his mind, and none of those particular moments were pleasant. He breaks into a jog, and when he sees the smoke, a run. From what he can tell, whatever events threatened his friends, the Vistani, have already occurred.

Presto looks frantically around for any survivors, or more accurately, someone that could survive if he was able to render aid. He approaches a familiar face, Malchor, and nearly shakes the man down for answers before he notices the subtle echo of a voice reading a spell. Best to wait, I know how easy it can be to fizzle a spell and do more harm than good. And I know how much Malchor hates being interrupted.

On completion of reading, the scroll disintegrated into green mist which enveloped the wounded woman and healed most of her burns. Malchor left her in the care of a young man, possibly her son, and went to Presto.

"No one's dead but I've been too busy saving lives to put out the fires. Let's talk as we work."

A cone of pure cold erupted from Malchor's fingertips to extinguish a flaming caravan.

"I wouldn't even be here if I hadn't felt the gate open and decided to scry. Warduke and Kelek the Sorcerer. Old acquaintances of yours, right?"

Another blast of frigid air, another frozen wreck. The bodies of several orcs and bullywugs were strewn among the carnage. Many Vistani tend their own wounded while others make sure their enemies on the ground are truly dead.

"I'd say it's a miracle none of the Vistani died but I'm not surprised. Luck is often on their side. Madame Fortuna and her people fought well but they were outclassed by that damned sorcerer. She said Kelek wanted two of your friends to go with him or he'd kill everyone... so they went with him and Warduke back through the gate. Lorne and Varla, I believe."

Presto pulls his hat off his head and pulls on the opening.

"Those two? Can’t say I’ve given them much thought in the last…I don’t know how long. Decades, at least. I can’t imagine what brought them out here."

A watery blob lazily pulls free of the hat and floats between the caravan wagons, dousing them and causing the water inside the sphere to sizzle momentarily.

A sudden thought widens Presto’s eyes. "Merlin’s underpants, they were here for me! All these Vistani were attacked because they happened to be at the tower! All these orcs and bullywugs, they brought an army and meant business!"

His concentration falters for a moment and the sphere douses a nearby Vistani man. Presto winces and pulls the sphere off him, quickly noticing the man’s skin has turned a lovely shade of cobalt. Presto yelps before catching himself and checking to see if Malchor noticed. Or the man for that matter. With so much smoke and fire, it’s a wizard’s tower, who knows how these things happen. It’ll wear off soon, maybe no one will notice at all. Presto pushes the sphere to a caravan far from the smoking wreck and the sopping blue man. And clears his throat. "You didn’t happen to find out why they were hear while scrying, did you?"

The now blue Vistani looked perplexed but somehow took it in stride as the sphere doused his wagon's flames. He was no doubt used to even stranger things in the Mists.

"To kidnap your two friends, boy!" Malchor boomed then settled down again. "I'd advise you scry for them while I finish putting out these flames."

He walked off blasting frosty cone after frosty cone over wagon after wagon.

"And you might want to let your other friends in the other place know what's happened, boy. If Kelek and Warduke are together, it's likely their entire damned League is involved."

Presto can vividly recall the so-called League of Malevolence: Kelek the Sorcerer, Skylla the Warlock, Warduke the Fighter, Zarak the Assassin, and Zargash the Cleric of Orcus. Since their near complete slaughter of their main opponents, the self-proclaimed Valor's Call, they haven't called themselves the League of Malevolence much less been together in years... but they are obviously more malevolent than ever and apparently in league once again.

Presto smacks his forehead and angrily pulls the hat down over his messy red hair. "Varla and Lorne, I completely forgot they should be here by now. I got so busy this morning, and those kids were in trouble and...Nevermind, it doesn't matter, I've got work to do."

Presto hurriedly washes the blob of water over the rest of the burning carts and wagons. He's a bit too hasty in his rush to re-enter his tower and a few of the carts go from burning wrecks to dripping piles of wood, but he shrugs it off. It's not like they were going to use them again, at least not anytime soon.

As soon as the last wagon is out, he drops his concentration on the water ball and it drops to the ground, threatening to wash over bystanders and knock them flat, but it passes harmlessly through them as a sort of thick mist before dissipating completely. "Malchor, thank you for coming, you've always been a truly excellent neighbor and friend. Please, come inside, I'll get you some tea and you can relax for a bit while I work on contacting the others and trying to find where they've taken Varla and Lorne."

"The tea can wait. You'd better not try to do too many things at once. You contact your friends. I'll seek the taken," the malcontent Malchor said as he produced an orc's severed hand from the folds of his cloak, sat before Presto's bowl of quicksilver, and began to chant. Presto recognized it as a scrying incantation but with a few subtle twists no doubt interpolated by Malchor himself.

Presto sits back in a wooden chair at his desk with a long strand of copper wire in one hand. It takes a minute of bending the wire (anyone's guess if the bending is even necessary or just for show), but he finds the five minds among the infinite.

"Hello? It's me! Presto! I hate to interrupt whatever you're doing, but we've got some trouble in the Realms. Some of our old friends from long ago have banded together and seem bent on attacking me and those close to me. I just missed them today, but they took Varla and my friend Lorne instead! I'm trying to track them down, but Warduke and Kelek attacked some friends of mine and they barely escaped with their lives!

I'm asking for help. Not just for myself, but for Varla, Kelek, and all of the Realms should the League of Malevolence get stronger. I'll be waiting in the tower. If you can, please hurry, I don't know how long I've got until they attack again!"

Eric is watching tv in the living room with his wife when he hears Presto's voice. Joseph and Molly were tucked in bed, and he was trying to enjoy a few minutes of peace in quiet with Kelly. Upon hearing the message, he sighs loudly. "Honey, I'm sorry. There's trouble in the Realms. I've got to go."

"I'm sorry, no. Kiss the kids for me. I'll come back as fast as I can." Eric stepped through the portal.

Sheila picks up a flute of champagne from a passing caterer's tray and takes a sip. Its opening night at a posh Manhattan gallery in Soho and the turn out it very strong for its latest presentation. Several of her pieces are included in the showings, as the theme of the event is dedicated to the fantastic and surreal. She has been shaking hands and talking up both fans and perspective new patrons for several hours now.

She takes another swallow of the tingling liquid and looks across the room. When, suddenly, the call comes in with the familiar sensation of the short hairs at the back of neck standing ready for the inevitable danger to come. "Be there as soon as I can..." Sheila replies.

Sheila gives a brief glance to the canvas the woman is indicating and replies, "Man's conflict within himself and the demons he must must face to achieve peace and enlightenment."

San Francisco New Orleans, USA, Earth.

Bobby curses when his knife slips and he cuts himself. He fights the urge to hurl knife, cutting board, and vegetables across the kitchen. Breathe. Visualize your calm. Mind wandering during vegetable prep. Rookie mistake. Now there's blood in the shallot brunoise. With a sigh Bobby washes his hands and splashes water in his face for good measure. He's been slipping for years now. He closed down the restaurant, thought about traveling, but then the pandemic Hurricane Katrina hit.

He thinks about calling Sheila. Three One hour time difference, should be okay. Bobby knows she's got an exhibit opening tonight. He should've called to wish her luck. Pressing a clean towel against the cut, he fumbles with his cellphone the telephone one-handed. That's when Presto's voice sounds in his head.

Terri's shift won't be over for another twelve hours. Her hospital's slammed as usual. Bobby doesn't know how she does it. He goes to the bedroom and grabs her heart-shaped locket from the side table. His side. She insists he wear it whenever he visits the Realm. Maybe she hopes it'll serve as an anchor to this world; without it he might very well drift off and never come back. He starts to scribble a note but the pencil breaks in his big, meaty hand. Bobby curses again. Something feels different about this trip. He feels like he needs to say something. But Terri will know where he's gone when she sees the locket missing. He cradles the tiny thing in his hand.

The Barbarian straightens. That's all the preparation he'll need; all his gear for the Realm is in Presto's care at the tower. He closes his eyes and begins the journey.

Hank was driving when the magical summons came. Sure, it was clear to him (and the others, he assumed), that magic didn't work in their earthly realm, but there was no other way to explain the tingle that accompanied the faint glow he was able to perceive each time he exchanged communication with the Realms. The message was clear though. The previous exchanges were chatty, friendly keep-in-touch well-wishes. This was urgent. If Presto had to summon them, the threat was great indeed. The League of Malevolence!

The bow was safely stored away in a golf bag, dormant. The clothes likewise. That was all he needed, everything else the Realms could provide. He paused to grab a bag of Presto's favourite crisps and smiled. It would be good to see the others again.