Chapter 7

The World According to LARP

The big joust was taking place at the time the dome over the woods appeared, so few people noticed at first, but word spread very quickly and soon the more mundane activities at the fair were abandoned as bystanders massed to gawk at the phenomenon. The few security personnel at the event had their collective hands full trying to keep masses of rubberneckers away.

The local authorities were soon called in, but "mysterious magic barriers" not being a type of situation the police tended to handle, they, too, were quickly forced to relegate themselves to crowd control while awaiting the arrival of someone who was equipped to deal with it. The police department's general procedure in cases such as this was to maintain the peace as best they could until one of Hillwood's superhuman protectors appeared. They were unaware that one of said protectors was currently trapped inside the dome.

One of Hillwood's protectors was on scene, but not exactly ready for action at the time the dome appeared. Phoebe, who at first had been resistant to fully enjoying the Ren Fair experience on the grounds of its many inaccuracies, had finally allowed herself to be talked into going native by Gerald.

"I must admit that the dress does make me feel… royal," she said, as the two strolled approached the exit of the wardrobe tent.

"Shall we take a stroll, m'lady?" Gerald asked, extending a hand. He too, was dressed in princely finery. "Our kingdom awaiteth."

"That's not very accurate period English… eth." Phoebe responded.

"Well, then, I shall endeavor-eth to do better-eth."

"I would most appreciate that-eth!" Phoebe quipped with a grin, taking his hand as they strolled out."

"Hey, uh… does it seem more… panicky out here than it was before?" Gerald asked, concerned.

"Now that you mention it…" Phoebe acknowledged, brows knitting. "Hey!" she called to a passing woman, "what's going on?"

"No idea," the passerby answered, "all I've heard is something strange is going on over by that little wooded area near the fairground. I was actually going over to get a better look."

Phoebe and Gerald glanced at each other. "I know that look," he said, disappointed. "I'm about to be a solo act again, aren't I."

"It couldn't hurt to go check it out before I go change," Phoebe suggested. "It's probably going to take a while to get out of this outfit anyway."

The two followed the crowd to the site of the disturbance. "That is one big bubble," commented Gerald, whistling.

"I suspect it would take far more than a pin to puncture it," agreed Phoebe. "I wonder if I could perhaps take a closer look..." She attempted to weave her way through the crowd of looky-loos seeking a better vantage point from which to observe the strange phenomenon, but it proved to be quite difficult. Magnetica, despite being the most petite of Hillwood's mutants, was at least somewhat intimidating; Phoebe Heyerdahl was decidedly not.

At last, she spotted an in, but her triumph was short-lived, as the reason the crowd was thinner there was due to the presence of a police officer.

"And where do you think you're going, your majesty?" he asked, smirking a bit at his cleverness.

"Oh, um… I just wanted to get a better look at the bubble…"

"Well, that's too bad. The bubble is off-limits, unless you have some sort of idea how to get rid of it."

"Well, actually, I-" She paused. How exactly did she plan on convincing this guy to let her past? She didn't exactly look the part right now. She was a teenager playing dress-up. Granted, that kind of described Magnetica too, but at least she had powers to back herself up. "…never mind. I'll just be going."

"Well?" Gerald asked.

"It seems Princess Phoebe's royal authority doesn't extend to the Hillwood police department," she explained. "And by the time I get out of this stupid dress, go home, shift, change into my costume, and fly back here, who knows how much this situation will escalate?"

"Aw, man… I'm really sorry I talked you into this," Gerald replied regretfully.

"It's okay," Phoebe replied reassuringly. "It's not like anyone could have predicted this situation. Besides… we do have other options. I'll simply call-" She fumbled with her dress's bodice. "Oh, crap."

"Did you leave your phone in the wardrobe tent?"

"No, it's here, it's just… not very accessible at the moment. What about you?"

"Pop's got me on a VERY rigid plan after he saw my last bill," Gerald complained. "I'm supposed to only use my phone for emergencies until I pay him back."

"Well, I'm not sure what exactly would qualify as an 'emergency', but I think an allowance could be made that this is one. Call Helga. Quickly."

Gerald dialed. "It went right to voice-mail," he informed.

"Odd," Phoebe mused. "She was supposed to be here."

"Maybe she's already looking into it?" Gerald suggested hopefully.

"Possibly. Try Rhonda."

"All right," Gerald said, dialing. "But I tell ya, whatever's inside there can't be as scary as my dad when he's in penny-pinching mode."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Phoebe dismissed, grabbing the phoen when she heard Rhonda say "Hello?"

"Have you seen the news?" Phoebe asked, cutting straight past the pleasantries.

"It's been kind of hard to miss," Rhonda responded. "Unfortunately, I'm still on babysitting detail, and I can't really blow it off. The good news is that I called Lila and she should be on her way soon."

"Well, that's good at least. Have you been able to reach Helga?"

"No, I keep getting sent to voice mail… you don't think maybe she's in there, do you?"

"That… would explain why we couldn't reach her," conceded Phoebe. "Which means that whatever's going on in there, she's in the middle of it."

"Just sit tight," Rhonda assured. "Lila should be there any minute, and if I can find a way to get out of babysitting, I'll be there as soon as can."

"All right," Phoebe answered, though she wasn't reassured in the least. If Helga truly was trapped inside the dome, there was no way to tell what unspeakable horrors she was facing right now.

-HELGA-

"Oh, god, no…. make it stop… make it stop…." I groaned.

"Gosh, all I was doing was trying to rouse our spirits with a jaunty song!" Eugene replied cluelessly. "Smite, smite, smite, smite the foul troll, strike hard, strike true, before he takes his toll."

I rolled to dodge the swing of the troll's massive club before it could reduce me to Helga paste. "Well, it's very distracting when I'm trying my very best to not die." I scrambled to my feet as the troll raised his club to strike yet again.

"Personally, I thought your song was very nice," encouraged Sheena.

"Less ego-soothing, more fighting!" I yelled. This was hardly my first monster fight, but this wasn't exactly the kind of fight I was used to. Usually, I had my powers to rely on, but now, I was forced to depend entirely on the capabilities of a human body… that, and an ax I barely knew how to use. You'd think an ax would be a pretty simple weapon, but watching someone use one in a medieval movie and actually wielding one were two very different things. "We need a strategy!"

"Oh, so now look who wants to think instead of charging in blindly?" snarked Todd.

"Oh, gosh," I remarked sarcastically, jumping back from another swing. "It's almost like circumstances have changed somehow. What could it be? Maybe before, we were fighting monsters made of cardboard and magic marker, but now they're alive and fighting back because someone brought them to life?"

"I-t's not like I meant to!" protested Todd. "I didn't know this thing was actually magic when I bought it!"

"Well, it is, and now there's an angry troll. So if you're not going to step up, I guess I'm in charge now."

"We never agreed to that!" Todd complained. "I'm the dungeonmaster here!"

"All those in favor of making Helga the new dungeonmaster?" asked the paladin guy. His, Sheena's, Eugene's, and Curly's hands went up immediately; the latter I expected, since all three of them were aware of my secret identity and knew what I was capable of. A bit more surprisingly, the necromancer guy, Lenny, and Doug (who I guess was some kind of hobbit?) raised their hands as well.

"Looks like the people have spoken," I said. "Okay, so… we need to somehow weaken this guy so those of us who fight up close can get in there and take it down. What've we got?"

"I could play a mesmerizing ditty to distract him," offered Eugene.

"….do we have ideas that aren't that?" I asked, not eager for more lute music.

"Um…" offered Sheena, "One of my character's abilities is 'miasma.' It can make a single enemy dizzy. But well, my abilities are just make-believe."

"I think the line between reality and fantasy is pretty much non-existent at the moment," Curly commented. "Try it out."

"Okay, uh…" Sheena raised her staff. "I call upon the spirit of the forest! I cast… MIASMA!" To her surprise, the staff began to glow, summoning a purple fog that enveloped the troll's head. "I-I did that," she realized, staring at her weapon.

"All right! Now! You, with the sword!"

"My name's Benjamin," he replied.

"Whatever, let's get it while it's dizzy! You go low, I'll go high!" I charged at the creature, not waiting for him. Thankfully, he followed my lead, striking at the creature's leg, bringing it to its knee while I swung my axe at its neck. It connected, and the entire creature disintegrated into mist.

"Y-you… you killed him," Sheena stammered, looking a bit sick.

"Hey," I said, "It was that thing or us. Besides… it's not like it was even real to begin with. And really, it could have been a lot worse. It could have left behind a big, gross corpse with blood and guts pouring ou-" I noticed that Sheena seemed to be on the verge of throwing up. "Oh, this isn't really helping, is it."

"Not really, no," Curly answered, helping his nauseated beau to her feet. "You alright, my statuesque sweetie?"

"I'll… I'll be okay in a little while," she said weakly. "I wasn't prepared for things to get so brutal."

You know…" Curly lowered his voice, "maybe you should get… changed?"

"Curly, I barely know most of these guys. How am I going to explain Temper suddenly appearing out of nowhere while Helga vanishes?"

"We'll come up with something. Right now, your powers might give us an edge that might get us out of here without Sheena getting traumatized any further."

"I said I'm okay," Sheena said, stifling a gag.

"All right, fine," I said. "Just cover for me."

I snuck off into the woods, waiting until I was sure no one could see me, before shedding my breastplate (thank goodness whatever spell was in effect had put some undergarments beneath it), and tried triggering my transformation.

Nothing. Something about whatever enchantment was in effect was also blocking my access to my mutant form. Figured. Todd's spell basically made our game personas real, and mine was badass Viking chick, not an alien-hybrid superheroine.

Fucking magic.

Denied my easy solution, I put my armor back on and returned to the group. "No luck," I whispered to my three in-the-know friends. "The magic is blocking my powers. Right now, I'm just a mean girl with an ax."

"Well, that stinks," Curly remarked. "Honestly, this isn't nearly as fun as you'd think a living RPG would be. I would've really liked to have an instant win button available. You know, just get it over with…"

I snapped my fingers. "That is a good idea. Hey! Dorkbeard!" I demanded. "This was your campaign. Any way we can skip to the final boss or something?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," he said. "A proper campaign can't be rushed. Each encounter prepares the party for the next. The final encounter is designed to test all we have learned."

"I don't know if you noticed, but this is not a proper campaign!" I spat back. "Now tell us, what did you have set up at the end?"

He sighed. "Fine. My last enemy was going to be the legendary three-headed dragon of Zarr, in the far end of the forest. It was going to be glorious."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm sure it would have been truly the most epic hitting-cardboard-with-plastic action in the history of nerddom. But thanks to your fuckup, we are now facing an actual threeheaded dragon." I grabbed him by the robe. "So, since this whole scenario was your creation, you better let us know what we can expect so we can take this thing out, because I'm really, really tired of all this medieval shit."

He sniffed. "So, now you need me, it seems," he asked condescendingly. "Very well. It appears I am once again the leader of this adventuring party."

"Ngggh… FINE! If it gets us out of here faster, lead the damn way!" At this point, I was so done that I really didn't care if I was stoking this dweeb's ego. I just wanted out.

"Well, then," Todd proclaimed. "We are off!"

As they walked off, Eugene began happily strumming his lute. "Ohhhhh… we're off to fight the dragon, the terrible dragon of Zarr, we fear he is deadliest dragon of all the dragons there are!"

"Excuse me," I said, "Can I see that for a moment?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Eugene said, handing it over. I immediately smashed it against the trunk of a tree.

"Sorry," I said, handing the remains back. Okay, yeah, that was probably uncalled for, but can you really blame me?

A.N.: Well, I wasn't going to end it here, but since it's been over three weeks since I updated the story and all, I decided to break on a joke shamelessly stolen from Star Trek: TNG (which itself stole the joke from Animal House so fair's fair. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner because I really want to get to the next arc, which will be a sequel to one of the original series' most beloved episodes.

Jose: The Pines aren't always easy to get a hold of on short notice, but you can bet Helga'll probably want to have a word with Ford regarding the source of the mysterious wizard staff.

Next: Dragon Quest. A Helga draws near!