Chapter One: A Scholar's Touch

Today did not seem like a particularly pleasant day, at first. I had to write two essays the day before, get up early for testing and start running on four hours of sleep. I've survived worse, I told myself... until it actually came to the calculus final. Sitting down, I scribbled my name, Zander Kol, onto the upper right-hand corner. Glancing at the paper, the numbers seemed to just swim through the air. I flipped the page with a sinking feeling. Crap. Nothing comprehensible. I flipped the page again. And again. Perhaps three of the nine pages I found doable - the rest might as well have been written in a foreign language. A combination of sleep deprivation and lack of study, it seemed, was destined to doom my grade, and there was nothing to do but settle in to what I knew was going to be a painful three hours.

Just as I finished brute forcing an alternate path through a problem, I heard time called. Papers shuffled and were passed forward, but my legs were already trudging towards the exit. Sleep, I thought, if I can just sleep, everything will be better. It was a short walk, not even a half-mile, but it seemed an eternity before I made it to the door. A key turn and a click later, I was walking in and collapsing onto the nearby couch. Next time. Next time, I'll do better. And my vision faded to darkness.

My dreams were strange, then. Normally, my dreams are very precise: A goal, perhaps, strict rules, stringent challenges even if they were quite ludicrous in concept. I enjoyed my dreams, each one a tiny adventure, and usually, a tiny triumph before waking into the next day of drudgery. This time, though, my dreams were fantastic swirls of color, bewildering and abstract. I felt a pull of movement, so powerful that I worried for a moment that I would fall off my place nestled in the couch, and bring an abrupt end to my rest. But no such event occurred, and I continued on in this maelstrom, and just when I felt I was growing accustomed to its vibrancy, I woke.

Starting to drag my eyelids open, I muttered something about waking me up and groped for the couch back, trying to drag myself upright. When no such structure was found, I forced open my eyes, and soon grew confused. Before me was not a ceiling, nor my brother, disturbing my sleep, nor any other sight I expected. Instead, a brilliant blue sky stretched above, two bright suns illuminating the day. Two? I sat up and blinked, trying to make sense of my surroundings, apparently some sort of meadow on the side of a dirt road. As I righted myself, a packet of paper fell off my chest, flopping face down on the grass. Turning it around, my mouth began to twitch upwards, a grin slowly making itself across my features. "Dungeons and Dragons", it said, "Character Sheet. Choose carefully, as once chosen, you will never get such an opportunity again. You have ten minutes." And with that, a quill popped into existence, and I was left contemplating.

Well then, I thought, I suppose this isn't the worst dream I've had. Let's see... My core attributes, it seemed, had already been chosen for me, including height, weight, hair and eye color, as well as some flaws, features and other details. My name, age, and a fairly long backstory had also been scribed for me, including, amusingly enough, something about being a newcomer from a distant land. I set that aside, as I didn't have time in my precious ten minutes to read a three-page backstory. However, the class had been left blank, as had the feats, spells, skills and items. My grin becoming ludicrously wide, I began to wrack my brain for a build. Focused Conjurer will fit that seventeen intelligence well. Hm, should I go for a metamagic focus build? No, too constricting. Fell Drain and Easy Metamagic will go a long way, though, and, what was it, Horizakaul's Cough? I wrote it down, but it immediately crossed itself out. Hm. Was it Horizikaul's? Ah, that works, though I can't ban Evocation... Hah! Of course I'm Inattentive. Well, I can live with that...

...

Nine minutes and thirty seven seconds later, my sheet was complete, and a wizened, gravely voice pinged in my head. "Ten seconds to personality erasure. Nine..." Okay, I'm done. Wait. What?! Stunned, I wasted a precious second comprehending what was just said, before scrambling wildly for ideas. An instant later, I fell upon the only one I could think of that a low-level wizard could attempt - Scholar's Touch,a spell normally to read books, this time to read my past. In a mad dash to maintain my identity, I scribbled everything I could think of on the paper - the words were hardly legible, because they didn't have to be, and I had no time for penmanship. "Eight, seven..." Not fast enough… Wait! I scrambled to scrawl Prestidigitation onto my sheet, and shouted the arcane utterances to cast it. Instantly, paper began to color into words, all kinds of exploits of Dungeons and Dragons, all sorts of history, sheets and sheets generating themselves to accommodate my writing, fluttering into the air. "Six, five, four…" I ended the spell, scrawling Scholar's Touch onto my spell list, and began casting. Please work. Please. "Three, two, one…" My mind flooded with information as the spell took effect, and then… "Zero."

...

My eyes opened, and for one glorious moment, I was new. I was Zander Kol, Conjurer, traveling to the Arcane University to start education there. I was a minor noble from the town of Stonesong in Heartrock Valley, far to the south. The world made sense, and it was good.

Then, something hit me. My eyesight swam as a second life slammed itself into my brain, etching itself and a second personality into my mind. My name was still Zander Kol. I was still me. What the hell... The world I lived in for all my life, a game. A world of strange technologies and bleak skies, my home. I shook my head. How… why… what is this? I stumbled and fell to one knee. I was standing before. How did I just notice that? I spent a moment, reciting my exercises of concentration, though I never expected to need to defend my mind from myself. Remember the six letters of the Nkatos Arcane alphabet. N. Soft. Birth. K. Hard. War. A. Open. Consuming. I took a deep breath, and isolated these invasive memories. Already, I felt different, a different person from a different world. But I thrust these thoughts aside - I had a university to attend. Perhaps they could help me. Shakily, I stood, leaning on my staff. Yes, I have a staff. A staff with a gear, for casting Create Trap. How could I forget? Shuffling my feet, I began to slowly walk down the road towards the university. Boccob help me.

...

The entrance to Lorethos, and functionally, the University within, was not particularly grand. A stone arch stretched over well-worn cobblestone road, moss creeping in from through the cracks, and nothing animate seemed to greet me. Reading an etching in runes directing new students to the welcoming office, I stumbled down the street. My head ached terribly, something I only noticed just now, but I could make it. I knocked on the door, and it swung gently open, a kindly-looking man waving me in. An examiner, I thought, glancing at his dress-robe attire. Soon, I was seated before him, taking arcane diagnostics to affirm my identity.

"Well, Zander, your readings are fine. Excellent, even. I expect you to do perfectly well at the University. However…"

The examiner paused, and I took the opportunity to speak. "I'm not sure why, but about a half-mile from the city, I got the most splitting headache, and some… very strange knowledge flooded my head, of some sort of other world. Not a Plane of existence, but something else entirely. It felt like a Scholar's Touch, but on something huge, and foreign. And I don't remember casting Scholar's touch - I didn't even have a book other than my spell book with me."

"Hm. Well, you do seem to have some cracks in your memory, generally evidence of a shoddy mind-alteration. Did you have any knowledge of this? Drink any shady potions? Apply any unusual oils?"

"No, examiner. Not unless you count the healing salves from my town's cleric, though I never had side effects before."

"No, no, that should be fine. Well, I'd recommend seeing an Enchanter or Enchantress about it, see if they can help you. Perhaps a Diviner, since it felt like Scholar's Touch. Otherwise, your headache should fade soon, and you probably don't have to worry too much about it. We've had stranger happenings here, anyway. Do come back if problems persist or worsen."

"Yes, examiner. Thank you."

With that, I stood up and walked upstairs to my assigned dormitory. He was right, the headache was fading, though the strange thoughts persisted, seeming to change my views. I marveled at the strangest things - Animal messengers, despite using them for most of my life, the floating buildings and glowing crystals I'd seen at least a dozen times before. Even my traveler's clothes, simple cloth garments made for durability, seemed… fantastic. I shook my head again, and walked up the steps, knocking on the wooden door marked 204, and called in, "Newcomer, Conjurer!"

The door creaked open and a few faces met mine. One of them, a tough-looking, scarred man, wearing a chain shirt, bulky pants and not much else, spoke up in a low voice. "Ah, the Conjurer. Well, apparently you went and focused on Create Trap and Horizikaul's Cough for some reason, so we'll need to make up for battlefield control another way. Whatever. Come on, get something to eat. Our first 'field trip' is in less than an hour."

"Field trip?"

"Ah, you're a noble? Well, at least from the looks of it, you're not too soft. The University doesn't have time or teachers to cover all the mewling newbies that claw at their doors. There's a bit of a culling on the first trip, where you'll get to make some cash and clear out some monsters. Practical experience, they say. Luckily, muscle like me is cheap, so I'll be taking plenty of hits for you scholarly types. Now, like I said, eat up. You'll need the energy. What's your name?"

I blinked in surprise, then shrugged. People might look down on Evocation, but a Fell Drain Horizikaul's Cough should off anything that threatens me. Dropping off my bags, I took a look at the three other people that I would be rooming with. Smiling, I extended my hand. "Zander Kol. Technically a Conjurer, but mostly just good at finding loopholes, so I'll be casting Evocation and teleporting around more than anything until I get used to the harder spells." The warrior took my hand and shook it, hard, though he looked amused when I squeezed back. "I knew you had something in you. Gareth. Gareth Blackblade." Gareth pulled out a sheet of paper, squinting at the writing - judging by what I could see from the window-light shining through, a rooming list, of some sort. "We've got a Transmuter named Michael Banks doing some experiment in the back, and the sleeping fellow's an Enchanter, Tim something-or-another. Grub's over there." Sitting down, I picked up the remaining bowl of some sort of grey porridge, probably spell-created. Muttering a Prestidigitation, I flavored the sludge into something more palatable - more like the milk, honey and fruit porridge I made at home. Shoveling it into my mouth, I contemplated my options. Hm. I could ask Tim about Enchantments and such if he makes it. Might help. Probably shouldn't wake him up, though.. Well, better than nothing? Finishing the "meal", I climbed onto my assigned bed and closed my eyes.

...

Not a moment after my vision faded to black, it reformed into something new - colorful, perhaps, but calming. With little experience in dreams, I didn't really know what to think - until the colors darkened and a huge, shadowy presence appeared behind me. Then, I fell in fear. Tried, at least, as there seemed to be neither floor nor walls, no structure or boundary to this dream. The shadows began to laugh, a deep, rumbling voice, and a huge spectral hand reached out, constricting me as a second hand jabbed my forehead with an outstretched finger. As my vision was obscured by shadow, my mind filled with agony, a spiked pressure like a vise around my skull. You were so insistent on refusing my gift. I squirmed and shoved, trying to escape the crushing grasp, but it did not yield. Well then, meddler. Let us see if you do better than the last. With a flick, I was thrown into the nether, spinning, spinning, spinning…

...

I sat up with a gasp, whirling around in fear. Gareth looked at me, bemused, then jabbed a rune on the wall with his sword - obsidian, magic probably, no wonder his surname is Blackblade - and the bed disappeared beneath me. The enchanter and I fell down, and I scrambled to my feet while he continued to snore. Gareth chuckled. "So, Zander, are you the kind of guy who gets nightmares?"

I shook my head, starting to wake up. Something was off. Something was missing. "Not until recently. Really strange, too."

"Well, whatever, you can deal with that on your own time. Let's go. Grab Michael, will you?" With that, Gareth smacked the Enchanter - Tim, his name is Tim, simple enough - and I trudged towards the back room, snagging my pack as I went. Before I could even knock, a wide-eyed wizard, almost stereotypical with his pointy hat and singed beard, flung open the door. "Yes, yes, I'm done! Get out of the way, would you?" He stopped, then gave me an appraising look. "Right, the Conjurer. Well, I'm Michael. Try to stay alive, will you?" Grabbing a leather bag from the floor, he started walking towards the door. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Gareth sighed and gave Tim a kick. "Wake him up, will you?" I grinned, and intoned, "Horizikaul's Cough!" A loud crack echoed from near Tim's ear, and he woke with a start, rubbing his ears. "You couldn't wait five minutes, could you? I was just getting to the best part!" Gareth sighed, waving Tim towards the door. "You said that last time. And the newbie could have popped your eardrums with that, so be grateful. Now git! We don't want to be late!"

Five minutes of shuffling through hallways, down stairwells and across streets later, we reached a building, identified with a steel plaque pronouncing "Quests". Within, all manner of stuffed monsters and grotesque trophies were mounted on the walls, as well as a variety of magical equipment, some with price labels, others in runed cases, marked "For Display". I had seen such things before, in museums and tourist attractions, but part of me - the foreign part, I had to remember - was amazed. I muttered obscenities and concentration exercises under my breath as we approached an elderly man, dressed in a mithral breastplate and robes, the overseer of the teleportation circles. "Group 131? Very good. Circle back comes in ten minutes - if you miss it, you're in for a twenty mile hike, so be sure you're punctual. Now, step in…" A flash of light later, and we were off.

The ringing sound and visual disorientation of teleportation - familiar, I told myself, I've done this before - soon faded, and we looked around to gain our bearings. Grassy hills stretched out before us, and mountains in the distance nearly towered over the twin suns. Twin. Of course they're twin. They've always been twin. I looked at Gareth, who had pulled out what looked like a map, and he cleared his throat. "Alright, so, we're clearing out some kobolds that have been giving farmers trouble recently. Should be fairly routine. Go in, smoke them out, blast some scales, leave. The warren opening is… hereabouts, so we should get moving." Hefting his obsidian greatsword, he started jogging in, and the rest of us followed.

Chopping away disguising vegetation from the entrance, Gareth sighed. "Right then. Looks like it'll be a squeeze. Remember, while kobolds are tricky buggers and they'll always make tunnels small if they can, some living spaces have to be big, so stick to those. From there, we can smoke them out - I brought some alchemical flasks for that. Throw it in, and then we get the heck out, and give them a smack down as they run. Ready?" Sheathing his sword and passing out the flasks, Gareth crawled in first, followed by Michael, Tim and me. As we delved into the earthy tunnel, Gareth whispered back to us. "Alright, crew. When I give a signal, we're getting near an opening. When that happens, get ready to run in and throw, alright?" We all nodded, and continued in.

Less than a minute later, Gareth waved his hand forward. "Get read-" A slab of stone slammed into the tunnel ahead, and a thud from behind us revealed that we were, in fact, utterly trapped. "Dammit, we weren't supposed to be assigned something like this! Get something to block or shoot through arrow slits!" Right on cue, thin gaps appeared on the sides of the tunnel, dirt crumbling away to reveal the carved stone under the surface. Crossbows, and their bolts, soon followed, and I cursed, rolling to dodge the flying missiles. A scream from in front of me told me that Michael had been hit, and my eyes narrowed, staring straight at an arrow slit, the crossbowman behind reloading. "Zander! If you can teleport in, run disruption! See if you can find a way to get us out!" Alright. All you need is line of sight. Ready. Set. With a jolt, I stepped through space and teleported behind the kobold crossbowman with a pop. Both he and I stumbled back, though the ample space gave me a chance to punt the small creature to the side. Okay. Now, "Create Trap!" Holes appeared in the floor, and razor-sharp darts flew from them, perforating two kobolds. Panting, I rolled out of the way of the remaining two, who seemed to have reloaded, and ducked behind their allies' corpses for cover before muttering the incantation again. Ending the last two with a second fusilade of darts, I dashed towards what I figured was the way towards the tunnel mouth, anything that would likely hold the controls to free my allies. Ignoring the cries of pain from within the tunnel, I crashed through a thin wooden barrier and into a room. A room full of kobolds. "Shi-!"

A volley of bolts flew towards me as I used my second Abrupt Jaunt, teleporting out of the way. I quickly considered the odds. Ten to one is not good on any day. Spotting a lever next to a doorway, something that looked like it could open the tunnel, I prayed to Boccob that I could at least save my allies, and leapt upon it, toppling kobolds in the way. Yanking the lever down, I was rewarded by a satisfying *k-chunk!* - but on the wrong side. It had opened the doorway into this room. Dammit! Cursing, I prepared to Abrupt Jaunt a final time, and blinked to the side as a volley of bolts pincushioned the kobold behind me, though one of the kobolds had wizened up and fired a bolt after my teleportation, nicking my ear and drawing blood. That's not going to work again… I reached to my side, pulled down the second lever, and closed my eyes. Might as well take one out with me. "Fell Drain -" My voice cut off, my eyesight disappeared, replaced by shadows, the voice from my nightmare, echoing from my throat. Wait, no- In a panic, I tried to cover my mouth, but something forced my movement, stretching my arm towards the kobolds. "Horizikaul's Cough!" The spell released from my palms and arced from kobold to kobold, striking each one and draining their life-energy, leaving eight lifeless husks. The remaining one stared at me in horror. I stared back. He ran.

Gareth rolled into the room, weapon ready, then halted as he saw the corpses littered across the room. "How…?"

I shook my head. "I don't know."

Gareth's face hardened, and he waved me forward. "Well, we've got to finish the job, and Michael's not looking good over there. Toss your flask and let's get out of here." Muttering something unintelligible, Gareth flung two flasks of smoky solution deep into tunnels out of the room, greyish yellow clouds immediately rising from the shattered glass. I noted Tim's nearly anorexic build stumbling out of the tunnel and grabbed his flask, tossing it with mine. With a nod, we ran back to the tunnel and started hustling out, grabbing Michael as we went. Ducking through crumbling sod and avoiding the crossbow bolts that littered the floor, less than a minute later, we crawled out and into the glorious sun.

Outside the tunnel, Tim immediately scrambled to his feet and up a hill, then began retching into the grass. Gareth looked grimly at Michael's wound - a deep wound, and one that left the right side of his head covered in blood. "Alright, well, I shoved a stabilization potion in him earlier, but… this looks bad. Keep a lookout into the tunnels. I'll take care of this." Staring into the darkness, then my palms, I realized I was shaking. Gareth's eyes met mine. "Don't worry about it. Just keep watch." As he bandaged Michael, I listened. Hard. For a moment, I thought I caught something, but it soon disappeared. A moment more. The noxious clouds we created could be seen from down the tunnel, slowly spreading. A minute passed, and Gareth exhaled. "Okay, I think he's stable. Not bleeding so much, anyway, and he's breathing, so good enough until we get to the clerics. Now we wait." I leaned against the tunnel, taking deep breaths as Gareth put a hand on my shoulder. "Good. Calm. You're good. You're safe. We just have to sit for another few minutes, and we're back to the University." Gareth glanced back in, then looked back to me. "I think you got most of the outer ones already - those are the ones that tend to run out. What was that, anyway?"

I shuddered. "I don't know. I tried to cast Horizikaul's Cough with Fell Drain - you know, negative energy - and something came out and amplified it. I think it was the thing from my nightmares. I... " I looked at my hands. Something was off. "I'm not sure. From my studies, it could have been a Chain spell, but I can't cast that high of a spell level! I don't even know how to Chain spells!"

Gareth patted me on the back. "It's alright, sorry for asking. But you might want to talk to an examiner about it, get it checked out. It saved our butts, but it's probably a good idea to figure out exactly what it was. The bigwigs might want to replicate it."

Nodding, I took another deep breath, reciting another mnemonic device under my breath as I exhaled. "Alright. Did you check out Tim?"

He shook his head. "We should let him get it out - He doesn't seem to be the combat type of guy. I'll check on him in a bit, make sure he's fit to teleport."

I slumped to the ground, fumbling for a waterskin from my pack. Finding it, I took a long drink before looking back. "Alright." Seeing the look of mild concern on his face, I gave Gareth a hard, tired stare. "Look, I can handle blood and gore and death. I've seen it before, despite being a noble. It's just that ever since I came to the University, I've been having weird images pop up into my head of some other world, and then I seem to have been possessed by some sort of freaking malevolent spirit from my nightmares which I never have. It's been a rough day, alright?"

He just chuckled. "Alright. Just, like I said, get it checked out, yeah?"

I looked at my hands again. "Yeah."

…

A few minutes later, the circle reopened on the grassy hill, and we stumbled into the return lobby of the Quest hall. Michael was quickly picked up and brought to the hospital wing while Tim, Gareth and I made out way to the rewards area. Rewards! Gareth laughed at our expressions. "You just remembered, huh? Well, don't get too excited. It's probably not more than a hundred gold pieces split among us, and don't forget, we have to pay for Michael's healing and that potion he used up." Walking up to the desk, Gareth said something to the runed device, and coins began to clink into a bag while me and Tim waited. A short while later, Gareth returned with a grin on his face. "Well, I lied! Grand total of four-fifty gold, which after expenses, is still around a hundred apiece! Pretty decent spending money, there." He handed the two of us smaller sacks of the gold, and winked. "Don't go spending it all at once, now. I'm getting a drink- I'll see you back at the dorm."

As Gareth left, Tim looked me in the eyes with a sort of sad smile. I looked back at him, concerned, and he gave a weak chuckle. "Y'know, Zander, we just met each other. But I'll tell you this. If that had gone the tiniest bit worse, someone would be dead. An inch to the left for Michael. A moment too late for you. Gareth barely deflected a bolt to his throat, though you didn't see it." He sighed. "I don't think I'm cut out for this. I don't care how good the University is, I can't live that close to death." And with that, Tim walked away.

I sighed and started walking as well. I really should get... well, whatever that was, checked out. Hm, what was the way back... Meandering through the streets and following the miscellaneous rune-signs, I made my way back to the examiner. Before I could even knock, the door swung open, and the examiner called, "Zander? We've been waiting for you. Come in." Well. That's either very good or very bad.

Author's Note: Well, that's one chapter! My first fanfiction here, but hopefully that's pretty decent.

If you're the type of person who likes knowing the stats of fanfiction characters, he's on Mythweavers. Fanfiction doesn't like links, so you'll need to go to Mythweavers and add /sheet(put a dot here)html#id=198925.