Dungeons and Drag-ins


Alex felt the world shift slightly as he walked to the bar. He glanced around the menagerie of…cosplay? There were a lot of Dragonborn but whatever. His hands brushed his clothes. They felt weird. A glance down told him he was in medieval garb. Sort of? It looked more like a videogame than a museum piece. The coins in his pocket let off a faint jingle. Well shit. Pickpockets were a thing. Alex let out a sigh and strode up to the queue in front of the bar. He was British, he did not fuck with the queue. The bartender eyed him. "You can skip the lizard."

The bar rumbled slightly as Alex waved him off. That didn't sound very friendly. "Eh, I'm not in a rush."

The bartender shrugged and went back to taking orders. Alex internally cringed at the blatant…speciesism? Racism? Was magical race roleplay a thing at this con or something? It was a little too close for comfort but whatever. He was just going to get a drink and head out. Alex did try not to get into bar fights. Sometimes they just…happened. He took a swig of the cider and winced. It was nearly vinegar. Alex glanced up as a handsome man with some sort of instrument sat in front of him. He had a small cat around his shoulders. "Thanks for standing up for Draco. He's got a bit of a temper and tends to breathe fire."

There was a plate set in front of him. The food did look good. "Is it drugged?"

The man barked out a laugh. The teeth flashed against the warm skin. "Nah, between you and me, Draco over there is more my type."

For some reason, Alex believed him. He didn't see it but maybe the costume was obscuring the man's looks. Liking tall muscular men was a thing, too. "So, what do you do?"

The man beamed at him. The instrument came off his shoulder. "I'm a bard, care to hear-"

CRACK!

A chair went flying over their heads and into the wall. Fuck. He just wanted a drink and dinner from the goddamn pub. Why did this happen every time?! Screw it. Alex began shoveling food into his face at top speed. He was getting his damn dinner and drink. The cider was a bit harder to choke down but Alex was getting his damn dinner and drink. After he finished downing the food and beverage, he made the mistake of glancing up. The Dragonborn, Draco, let out a furious bellow and blew fire all over the nearby tables. The fire jumped from the floor to other nearby chairs. "ARE YOU BLOODY MAD?! WE'RE IN A FUCKING BAR MADE OF WOOD AND SITTING ON TOP OF A SHITLOAD OF FLAMMABLE BOOZE!"

The Dragonborn either didn't hear him, didn't understand English or elected to ignore him in favor of hosing more surroundings with fire. Bloody fucking hell. Alex had enough and threw a chair at him before running out of the building. He was not getting blown up by Comicon loonies. Alex had survived being stabbed and shot by actual terrorists. He made it just outside the door before flames made it to the roof. Alex started running for the hills. Weird. He had been in London before. Whatever. That was a later-Alex problem. Maybe that food had been drugged? He didn't feel drowsy or strange. Alex kept running. The fire spread quickly. He'd certainly set enough for all of them. FWOOSH! KABOOOM!

Alex felt the force of the explosion lift him off his feet and throw him towards the hills. His ears rang from the explosion. Fucking shit. His arms felt like jello as he tried to lift one. Alex saw stars as he passed out.

He woke up to the sound of a wood instrument. It sounded something like a flute. Not quite but probably in the same…family? Alex inhaled as he remembered the events from the night before. A few pokes had him awake. "What in the fuck?"

It was the man from last night playing his instrument. The Dragonborn was sitting a few feet away. There was also a very, very, short ugly man sitting nearby. The last companion was a tall beautiful woman with slightly pointed ears and unnatural purple eyes. "Oh good, you're up."

Alex rubbed his eyes. This was going to be fun. "Where am I? And what happened to the rest of the bar?"

The party exchanged a glance. He began to sit up faster. "The Forgotten Isles. And, uh, so far you're the only survivor besides us."

That was not a real place. Maybe these crackpots had gotten a little too into the roleplay? Was he supposed to play along or not? Alex didn't want to get murdered. "Right."

He let out a sigh and began to gingerly move about. The woman's eyes were fixed on him. "Any idea where the nearest city is?"

The bard shrugged. Alex wanted to facepalm, he did. The man looked hopefully at him. "Does that mean you have the coinage for passage?"

The man withered under Alex's responding glare. He didn't know. "Depends. How much is the passage?"

The bard let out a sigh. Alex glanced at the woman, who had a long-suffering look on her face. "Ten gold coins."

Just wonderful. Fake money to go with the fake world. How the hell did he get out of this? "That will be a no."

The group looked hopefully at him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Would you like to join us for our next job?"

Alex let out a sigh. "Not really, but I don't exactly have any other options lined up."

Hopefully, it wouldn't be anything too unsavory. The woman rose and approached him. She was a good six feet tall. Probably taller. "While the rest of you miscreants were slacking off, the bartender provided me with a map and a job lead."

The job lead did not look remotely close. Alex got up and grumbled. Here's hoping these idiots had some serious survival skills. "I'm Alex."

The handsome man grinned at him. Fucker. "Timothy. The dwarf is Galen. You've met Draco. And the lovely jolly elf cleric is Selena."

There was a throat clearing behind him. Alex squinted at the woman. "We should be going soon."

Well, he'd had less downtime on injuries after some missions with MI6. This wouldn't be too bad. They started for the direction of the manor house on the map. "What can you do, anyway?"

Alex shrugged. There were a multitude of skills that might be appreciated in the fantasy land these people had created for themselves. "A little bit of everything."

There were grumbles all around. Alex smirked internally. These people might be fun to fuck with if he was going to play along with their delusions. Or maybe he was the crazy one? Eh, who cared. He could play along until MI6 picked him up.


Based on a prompt by Zyzyax (see story summary). This is the 123rd work in the Winds of Change 2022 Alex Rider Prompt event, where a new prompt (plus a short 1-3K work) is posted every day. For more details, see the AO3 collection :) Want to discuss? Leave a comment beneath, or join the discord (Link on AO3 Fics or just PM me, lol). Want to take part in our Alex Rider anniversary celebrations in September? Join the WoC discord to take part in a fanfic event! Want to showcase your work to your fellow fans and authors? The WoC server has a new feature! Any author who joins can ask to join our authors' feed, which shows all the fics from the authors who opt in, including non-AR fics!