Chapter 1: The Arrival

Ashis rose up frantically with a sudden gasp. He faintly remembered somekind of accident and pain . . . . and drowning while falling. In an involuntary reflex, he sharply inhaled air and was surprised to feel it very dry and hot. He was not drowning, but there was sand and dust in the air. He slowly rose up as his visions cleared and the toppled archway came into view. What were those symbols? Were they glowing? He almost lost his balance as he back stepped, but surprising enough, he could bend back without any problems. There was something strange with his body. It felt very light and taut, as if his muscles were ready to spring to action, waiting for him to do something, anything! Whatever he did, he never remembered his body to be so fit. As he turned around, he realized that he was on an elevated structure, and in the far distance he could see a town with some curious buildings.

Wherever he was, his house was not present in the middle of a desert! Was this a dream? Nightmare? Then he spotted 3 more figures close to him. There was something odd about them too.

Ashis is wearing a grey t-shirt with dark navy blue jeans. The t-shirt has a picture of d20 dice wearing a mage hat. He also has a pair of dark brown rubber-soled flip flop sleepers. What he doesn't know is that he has long shoulder-length blonde hair and a handsome face with a chiseld chin, sharp nose, dark almond eyes, and a healthy beard. He stands tall, reaching almost but not quite 6 feet with a light, muscular physique. A sense of agile prowess emanates from his movements.

Eugene blinked his eyes several times, adjusting for the more natural sunlight that now flooded them. He reached up and grabbed his glasses and began to clean them with his graphic t-shirt. Too big, this shirt must have gotten stretched because it was much too big for him now. Repositioning his glasses back on his nose he looked back at the city below the rise. This had to be some sort of hallucination right? It had finally happened, the stress of the job was making him have a mental breakdown.

Turning he saw the other three standing there, "Uh..." he muttered aloud. He wasn't sure what to make of them, if he continued to work under the assumption that this was a hallucination, one that he seemed completely lucid about, then who were these colorful figures? Some sort of Alice in Wonderland projections maybe? Maybe they were other co workers who had found him, and this was his mind projecting the hallucination onto them. "Michelle? Bobby? Dan?", this was all so real feeling, he could feel the heat blowing across his bare legs...wait..bare legs?

Looking down Eugene saw that his pants had fallen down around his ankles...his ankles? Wait, no, these weren't his legs, they were too short, too hairy, although skinnier than normal as well. He lifted his feet and his smaller foot came right out of his black Nike shoe, his compression sock hung limply on the smaller foot. His clothes for sure, wrong body for sure, his mind was projecting a hallucination onto this body as well. The world swirled around him, he could feel his heart beat climbing as it thudded loudly in his ears.

Quickly he gathered up his blue jeans from around his ankles and pulled them up to cover up his loose boxer briefs. "I need to wake up, call my wife, get to a doctor" he muttered once more. He started to try and fiddle around in his pocket and he found his cell phone, he pulled it out and began to dial out, but then noticed the no signal symbol at the top of the phone. "What? How? We have great signal in the building." he then looked back to the others, "Michelle, or Dan, Bobby, whoever you are, I need a doctor" he could feel his breathing becoming erratic, he clutched his hand to his chest, there was an all too familiar feeling there, a constricting that threatened to steel all the air from his lungs. He was having a panic attack.

Michel slowly became aware of rushing at great velocity through... something. Still being three-quarters asleep, he wasn't particularly bothered by this. Then the world erupted in a searing brightness as he hit the ground with some force. The closing portal burped out the cheap, white plastic chair he had been sitting in on top of his head to add insult to injury.

Groaning in pain, he slowly sat up and shielded his eyes from the glaring sun with one hand.
He was wearing a long, dark blue, woollen winter coat over a She-Ra t-shirt, with dark blue pants and black boots. A blue woollen scarf protruded from the open bag slung over his shoulder.
His face looks 20 to 25-ish in that ageless Elvish way, but his eyes look at least twice that.

While visibly confused, he seemed more composed than the others as he got to his feet. 'Great, gave me the wrong anaesthetics... again...' he thought to himself. He picked up the old-fashioned, felten hat he lost when he landed and ran his hand through his hair, squinting from the glaring desert sun. And then he paused, and ran his hand through his hair again, the confusion on his face deepening. That's a lot more...more than there should be... Curlier than it's ever been too. He mentally shrugged and put the hat back on his head. He'll figure out the hair situation later. It doesn't seem that important at the moment.

Then his memories started to catch up with him and his inner voice started to ramble. No, wait, they didn't give me anything yet, I was still in the waiting room and it was hot and I was tired and... ooh, I'm dreaming. Got it. Doesn't really feel like a dream but what else can it be...

In addition to everything else, he was also becoming aware of a deep sense of incompleteness, as if he was missing and arm and a leg. He looked around, not really knowing what he was looking for.

Pushing his emotions to the background, he regarded his companions. Looks like he's not the only one that was thinking dreams.

"Ehm... hi?" he says hesitantly.

Mathias sits up quickly, the sand moving beneath his body as he looks around. "What in the hell...?" He spots the others, noting their strange appearances - one quite short, one with pointed ears - though all three wear clothing that, like his, doesn't seem to fit with the surroundings. He scrambles quickly to his feet, the sun already punishing him for the sweater he wears loosely over his frame, far looser than normal, now that he thinks about it.

"Does anyone know where we are?" he asks pointedly. He feels the familiar weight in his hand - an apple, the same one he was carrying when he turned that corner in the grocery store, just before everything went crazy. What strikes him more are his hands. The hair on his knuckles thicker, his hands a little bigger but at the same time thinner. He suddenly feels nauseous as a strange sense that he has lost himself in some way. He event felt...taller, somehow. "What do I look like?" he asks the man with the pointed ears only a few feet away.

Indeed, to the others, he would appear a strange, foreign version of himself. Slim and muscular, with a strong jaw, short and striking red hair, and chiseled features. There is nothing otherwise noticeably strange about him, unless they had known how he had looked only a few minutes ago.

Ashis was surprised to look at the other persons. One of them was short, almost waist length, and he initially thought him to be a child. But then he saw all the hairs and heard the voice. Was...he...well, he certainly looked like a dwarf of the fictional stories. He went close to the man as he was panicking and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Hello Mister....? What is wrong? Are you perhaps hurt? You said you needed a doctor. Did something happen to you?"

On close inspection, he definitely felt like a man of short stature, and with all the beard and hair, he felt unmistakably dwarfish. However, he was wearing modern clothing. Was he a cosplayer or something?

He then turned to others and was again surprised to see another man with pointed ears. Definitely an elf! Also, in modern clothing? He then turned to regard the last man, who felt different but didn't have any magical bearing. Though he had magnificent red hair.

It was this time that he noticed his own flowing hair, which was long and thick and turned out to be golden. Wait, he never had blonde hairs. He had stark brown hair, which he was already losing.

Utterly confused, he looked towards the other people and said, "Hello! I have no idea what this place is. Is it India? Where are you all from? I don't remember joining a LARP? You heard about LARP and cosplaying? Are all dressed up for an event or something?"

Eugene regarded the man who attended to him, taller, blonde hair, and he was going on about LARP, was that what this was? It had to be right? No, it was definitely a hallucination, he was physically shorter, you can't cosplay shorter like this. "Panic...Attack..." he struggled to get out to the man who was asking him as to whether he needed a doctor. He could feel the air getting less and less, and his vision was beginning to darken around the edges, he knew this feeling, he was going to pass out. Maybe it was for the better, maybe passing out would cause him to wake up without the hallucinations.

Ashis felt worried about this. It was a panic attack. Maybe this man suffered from hypertension like his old mother. Unfortunately, he had no medical training. He tried to calm the man by gently but firmly gripping his shoulder. "Close your eyes and breathe. Take a deep breath, hold it for 2 seconds, and release. Repeat it again."

"Eh... normal?" Michel says hesitantly, not really sure what to answer to that, but then he remembers his own weird hair.
"Wait, hang on..." he says as he fishes his phone from from inside his coat to take a picture and show the stranger what he looks like.

He speaks English like he has a more than adequate passive knowledge of the language, but doesn't get to speak it very often.
As he looks at the screen it becomes very obvious that his eyes are better than they have been in years. What he's also starting to notice as he speaks is that he's breathing deeper than he has in decades. If this is a dream, it's a good one.

"What do I look like?" he asks in return as he hands the man his phone, "because this is definitely not the hair I woke up with this morning."

Mathias lets out a sigh, "I'll be honest, I don't feel normal. He takes the phone and looks at the picture of himself. "Whoa. Yeah, not normal. I mean, it's flattering, but...I did not look this way last time I checked a mirror." He looks up at the other man, then raises the phone and snaps a picture, handing it over. "I'm guessing you didn't have pointed ears, huh?"

His attention is pulled to the smaller man, hyperventilating nearby. He trudges through the sand toward the other two. "Are you going to be okay? This is all pretty damn weird, but...kinda seems to me like we're all in a bit of a pickle. Maybe if we put our heads together we can figure out what the hell is going on."

Eugene felt the firmness of the strangers hand on his shoulder, he focused on their words, "Right..." breath in, breath out, the air was arid and dry but he could feel his heart rate decreasing with each breath, and more air filling up his lungs. The darkening around the edges of his vision began to lighten as his blood pressure decreased. Soon enough he bent over a bit and put his hands on his knees and took deep breaths.

"Thanks..." he said looking up to Rone. "I'm Eugene, do you know where we are?"

Ashis smiled as the man calmed himself, "Hi, my name is Ashis Misra. To tell the truth, I have no idea where we are." He then turned to the other man and nodded, "Yes, I agree with you. All these seem weird for some reason. I lived in suburbs, and there was no desert nearby. So, I don't exactly know where we are. To be frank, I actually don't feel like I am myself. I feel like I am someone else.... But again same as myself."

He thought for sometime about the concept. Was he someone else here in this dream or whatever reality? His seemed to remember something. A flash and sharp pang of pain, and he suddenly remembered from the depths of his mind, "Wait, I am....Rone.....Rone Kanterine. But what does it even mean?"

"Wow, I look like a kid." Michel bursts out at first glance of the picture, before he even notices the ears. It's his face, more or less, which much nicer, younger skin. And a seemingly complete lack of facial hear other than some mild peach fuzz. But most of all it was the strange eyes that weirded him out.

"I need to sit down..." he mumbles, as he picks up the plastic chair and sits down on it. Experimentally feeling his ears. Pulling and squeezing them, confirming that they are indeed very real.
Taking stock of his situation, he concludes that things are not that bad. He seems to have two functional lungs, and his eyes are fixed, or maybe just a lot younger. He reminds himself that this can't be real, no matter how realistic some of it may seem.

He stands up, puts his hat back on, and walks over to where the rest of the group is standing.
"I'm Michel, and I'm not normally an... ah... Elf. Has anybody else considered that this is not really real? Like a dream or something?"

Rone turned towards the bipedal dog creatures, and his face twisted into horror and revulsion. "Eww! What are these things? I have never seen them! Everyone be careful." His eyes focused on the rusty swords, and his heart rate increased. What is going on here? Are these creatures planning to hurt him? He has never been mugged or attacked in his entire life! Hell, he never fought his entire life.

His breathing started to increase as his heart started to beat faster. He even felt like his legs might shake. But his new body seemed to be perfectly normal. It's as if he was not unfamiliar with confrontation; however, naive and unprepared his mind thought himself to be. For a moment, he felt split, almost disjointed. It was as if Ashis was scared of the prospect of fighting, but Rone....Rone has done it numerous times! In fact, what was that? Rone was looking forward to it!

But, instantly, it became clear that he didn't have any weapons. What will he even fight with? He instinctively placed his hand in the pocket and felt his mobile phone along with the store keys. That was what he had when he closed the store after all. But he felt that Rone was not unarmed; he had a weapon. But where was it? Well, Rone never kept his rapier anywhere else other than his belt. And there it was, something tugging at his waist. Rone looked down to spot his Rapier's crossguard.

Confidently, he drew his blade as adrenaline surged and his mind focused on his prey. He moved forward to engage the closest one and immediately felt a nauseating dread that caught him offguard and almost made him tumble. When he neared his opponent, his instinct said to disorient his enemies and confuse them, a tactic he has used quite often. So he tried to tumble through it and land on its back with his rapier drawn. Sending sands flying in the air, Rone landed at the back with flourish as he tried to impale his opponent, not letting it give enough time to recover.

Eugene looks to the creatures that approached and felt the grip of fear, he hurriedly began to try and run away but stumbled over something in the sand. A book, a leather bound tome with arcane runes that he shouldn't be able to read, but that made sense to him perfectly. "The Lexicon of Runed Iron", he quickly pawed at it and opened it up, he knew these words, but moreso he knew these words contained power. How he knew would be something for him to ruminate on later, for now he needed to defend himself. He reached up and fixed his glasses on his face and then then held out his hand, wait! He needed a piece of metal for this...spell, was he really casting a spell? Quickly he reached into his oversized pants and dug around for something, what he found was his car keys, good enough. Once again he reached out his hand, palm up, with the keys sitting atop it, he spoke the words of the spell and the metal of the keys began to fold in on itself, the plastic bits crumbling off the sides of his hand and falling to the sand below.

"Runedor! Skarnik! Tholdrim!" he incanted each word with more intensity than the next, he could feel heat emanating from his hand, causing the metal to turn molten and then reforming it into razor sharp needles. Once they had fully formed the needles flew from his hand toward one of the...Chihuahuas, or at least that was his best analog for what these dog like creatures were.

He then hefted the book up and, placing his hand on the back of the book, incanted once more, this time in common, "By stone and steel, let words be shields!" and called up on protecting runes to spring forth off the book and begin to circle around him and the other strangers gathered around him.

Surprise and revulsion wash over Michel as he sees the malformed canine creatures. He briefly wonders where they came from, as there doesn't really seem to be anywhere for them to have come from. His instincts make him to want to stumble backwards and maybe run away, but this Elven body seems to come with its own weird muscle memory. He instead stands his ground becomes eerily calm as he feels something blossom deep inside himself. He gets a sense of a name, Mirandel, and a flurry of rushing half-memories.

Powerful, primal, life magic starts to fill him. His eyes glow with a golden light. He tries to channel this power where it is supposed to go. He has an instinctive feeling what he is supposed to do. Rejecting the plant-like monstrosity Mirandel would have summoned, he reaches out across space, searching until he finds what he wants, and smiles.

There is a bright flash of light as a giant, feline being materialises in front of him. It looks like a regular cat, but man-sized.

The Beast looks a bit confused, but then hisses at one of the monsters.



[If we're close enough to make a melee attack I want to do that instead of Demoralise, on the damages one.]

Mathias looks at the oncoming creatures with surprise and distaste. "What are these things?" he cries out, his eyes falling to their swords. He instinctively plants his feet and feels the sand beneath call to him. He draws on it without even realizing it, particles of sand raising and floating around him, then thrusts his hands forward causing the ground beneath the creatures to shake and threaten their balance.

Scratched by the wicked rusted blade, Rone grimaced and then kicked sand at the eyes of the doglike creature. He tried to remember if he ever had seen a creature like this. He seems familiar with this world. Was he from this world or somewhere else like Ashis? Then extending his rapier, he went in for a lunge.