Dungeon Mistress

“Yeah, but I didn’t know the door was going to close and seal behind me!” He protested.

Liz snorted. “Right. You seemed so upset to be alone with the Consigliere,” she said, sarcastically.

Mike’s face was red, now. “I-I had plenty to worry about and I figured you guys would be working on how to get the door open,” he muttered, pouring bourbon out and handing it to me.

“We had our own problems,” Erin muttered.

My eyes flicked to Erin, who was leaning forward over my forearm, applying the tattoo. I couldn’t see her face. But I had a nice view of her decolletage in that dress that Monica had altered for her.

I could see her collarbone all the way down to her cleavage, and admittedly, my eyes lingered for a long moment. God, she was hot. I had fantasized about her many times over the years, about kissing my way down her neck, down the freckles of her chest...

I realized, staring ... that the soft skin of her upper chest wasn’t pale, as it usually was. I couldn’t see her face, but there was a flush at her neck that was unmistakable.

She was blushing.

Erin was embarrassed by whatever had happened with the Consigliere last time, too.

Erin’s embarrassment -- cheery, positive, enthusiastic, go-with-the-flow Erin -- hit me in a way I wouldn’t have expected. Erin, who I’d always had a crush on.

Erin, who didn’t look like a D&D player, but was a bit of a powergamer when you got right down to it. Who was always the first one to ask how much experience we’d gotten from an encounter.

Erin, who was never embarrassed.

“Hey, it’s all good. It’s all four of us, now,” I said. “We’ll work together.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the others, but all of us were uncharacteristically quiet, after that.

Normally we’d chatter, filling whatever time there was by catching up, asking each other questions, laughing about inside jokes from our childhood.

The silence was new, different.

I had to admit, even I didn’t feel confident in what I had said. I was wondering what had happened to Liz and Erin. What Mike was going to do with Monica. Who the secret admirer was. The mix of jealousy and curiosity was confusing.

And I wasn’t the only one who recognized that the dynamics were shifting, obviously.

I was still mulling over what all of this might mean as we all sat in silence when Monica returned.

“Well, then. Shall we get started?” Monica’s voice was cheery.

I watched my friends try to snap out of whatever funk had descended on us as we gathered around the table.

---

Monica’s voice was smooth, as she set the scene.

“Your arrival is different, this time. For one thing, it’s snowing. And clearly, it has been for some time. The blizzard has coated everything in a blanket of snow and bitter cold. You are, in truth, glad not to be attempting to rest in preparation, just heading inside. There’s little respite to be found here. Winter has descended upon the Arcanatrix’s mountain sanctum. In another month’s time, attempting this journey would be foolish, even for seasoned adventurers like yourselves.”

She paused for a moment, then said, “Since you aren’t resting, you all need to make a round of Survival checks. 17 is the number to beat; anything less and your character shows up with some kind of penalty.”

We shrugged, and all began rolling.

“Twenty six,” Erin said, cheerfully. “No problem!”

I rolled. “Nineteen,” I reported, breathing a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to find out what the penalty would be.

“A fucking sixteen,” Liz said, with a sigh.

“Okay, here.” Monica handed her a slip of paper.

Liz was glancing at hers and shrugged. “Okay, fine. Beats the Arcanatrix jumping us in our sleep.”

All of us turned to look at Mike.

“I got a five,” Mike said glumly.

Monica handed him a slip of paper, too. He read it, and his face reddened. “Come on, Monica. This is bullshit.”

Monica waved her hand irritably. “Whatever. Don’t argue with the Dungeon Mistress. You guys picked this approach. Look, you have indeed arrived. The curved, dome-like shape protruding from the mountain’s steep peak is unmistakable to those of you who have been here before -- though the shimmering crystal that you know it to be constructed out of is now covered in snow.”

I could see Mike gearing up to object some more about his penalty. I tried to redirect.

“So ... how do we get inside?” I made Cedwin’s voice extra weary, given the description.

“You walk through it. The crystal keeps out inanimate matter, but lets through living beings into her ... foyer,” Mike said. He was using Meldrin’s reedy tones.

“C’mon, I’m tired of the cold,” Liz said, using the smoky purr for Lucia.

Erin just nodded in agreement.

“Who steps through first?” Monica asked, a sly smile on her face.

I opened my mouth, but Mike spoke up. “I’ll go in first in case the magic feels ... odd, in any way.”

“We’re all following him right away, though,” Liz added, quickly.

Monica nodded. “Alright. Meldrin, you step through first. There’s a flash of wet cold -- the snow coating the surface of the crystal dome is frigid indeed, and the only way is going through it -- but then a tingle across your skin as you push past that, like static electricity. And then you’re through. It’s immediately thirty degrees warmer, and the ground is cleared, here, bare rock with no ice. The others follow with the same experience.”

And then, Monica turned on the TV screen, and began fiddling with her phone.

“A moment later, though, the light flickers oddly around you, and in front of you, a figure takes shape...”

Monica trailed off as a video began to play on the TV.

---

“Hello, Meldrin, Lucia, Enna. And whoever else you’ve brought with you.” The voice was slightly British, cool and even.

“Regrettably, I’m not available to greet you right now. A little busy.”

On the screen was a woman. The camera was centered on her face. Brown skin -- perhaps Indian, or mixed race. Black hair, cut in a short bob, though a shock of electric purple ran through it. Full lips that were curved in a superior, confident smile. Dark eyes that bored into us as she looked at the camera.

“Your last visit to my sanctum was so... destructive. But I’m willing to put the past in the past. I know why you’re here. Murmurings of your new allies -- the dryads, the Daughter of Blades and her sisters -- have reached my ears. I have known for some time now that I’ll need to take a side in this conflict between the Night Queen and ... well, everyone else.” A smirk played across her lips. “I’ll assume you saved the best for last.”

“Here’s the thing: I don’t side with losers. So I’ve arranged some challenges for you, to test your mettle. See if you can really stand strong against the Queen. Impress me, and I’ll ally myself with you.”

The smirk twisted into a wry, evil-looking grin. “But fail to impress me, and I will ally myself with the Night Queen instead. I’ll be at her side when you confront her.”

---

We were all quiet for a moment as the video went black.

Mike was the first to break the silence. “Damn, that’s what Arcanatrix Ravenna looks like?” He was aghast. “I figured you’d be playing her, Monica. She’s a smokeshow. I-I mean, I’m sure you’d pull it off too, but, uh ... is she a friend of yours? How do I get to meet her?”

Liz snorted.

Monica laughed. “That’s Ravenna, yes. And yes, she’s a friend of mine; she owes me a favor and agreed to help out with some videos for this session. Oh, but I don’t think she’s looking to date right now, Mike. Sorry.” Monica gave Mike a commiserating pout.

“I’m sorry, did we just get her ... answering machine?” Erin giggled.

“Seemed that way, yeah,” Liz said, resigned. “Well, she wasn’t here last time, either. Just her servant. Who seems nowhere to be found.”

“The image of the Arcanatrix fades, leaving you standing before the Grand Lock, the entrance to the sanctum you recall from your last visit.”

“Is the Lock... locked?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s a puzzle. Or at least, it was last time,” Erin murmured.

Monica cut in. “The Grand Lock is much as you remember it, a sturdy and immense oval of stone, its surface etched with arcane runes. The words of the riddle inscribed upon it have changed since your last visit, though. It now reads as follows.” She cleared her throat, and read out:

“What did it say the last time you guys were here, and what was the solution?” I asked, cautiously. It certainly seemed like it was ... pointed towards a particular solution, but I figured it was better to hear more about what had happened last time before I assumed.

“I, uh, don’t remember what it said, exactly,” Mike said, “but we each had to--”

Liz interrupted him. “Oh, I remember what it fucking said. It was rhyming mumbo jumbo, but it boiled down to a tale of your first deflowering grants you entry,” Liz said, irritation rising in her voice. “We each had to say how our characters lost their virginity. God, I hate the Arcanatrix.”

Monica blinked innocently. “Look, personally, I was a little surprised by the direction you all took things. I was expecting answers related to horticulture or botany.”

Liz groaned, and buried her face in her hands. “It makes me so angry that I know you would’ve accepted an answer about the first time my character pulled the petals off a dandelion or something, if I had thought about it for long enough. Instead I had to listen to Meldrin tell us all about how he--”

Now Erin interrupted. “Okay, so this time, let’s focus on this riddle and not miss an easy solution. Any ideas?”

But Liz was clearly over it. “Yeah, I’ve got an idea: Lucia’s out of patience for the Arcanatrix’s games. Fuck this. Lucia is trying to pick the Grand Lock.”

Monica raised one eyebrow. “You’re sure? It’ll be tricky.”

Liz nodded, firmly. “Unless you’re saying I can’t attempt it. I’ve had enough of the Arcanatrix’s bullshit already, and this isn’t the week where I’m making Mike’s dreams come true.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Mike protested.

Monica shrugged. “Okay, then. You can definitely attempt it. Go ahead and roll a Thievery check...”

Liz rolled, but before she even announced the result, Monica’s lips quirked into a satisfied little smile. “ ... which you fail. Automatically.”

Realization dawned on me -- the notes Monica had handed out, this must be Liz’s penalty from the journey -- even as Liz glanced down at the slip of paper that Monica had handed her only moments before. “Seriously? This is the dexterity-based check you’re having Lucia automatically fail? My very first roll of the session?”

Monica nodded, all smug assuredness.

Liz’s lips thinned. “Fine. God, I hate this place even more than the first trip here. What happens?”

“Lucia starts fiddling with the door. It does have some mechanical components, and she’s just working a flexible metal tool behind one of them, when there’s a click sound that she didn’t expect. She must have tripped some failsafe trap that’s built in to the Lock. There’s no fanfare, no sound or effect ... Lucia just vanishes. The rest of you stare as the tool she was using clatters down the face of the Lock to the ground. Liz, come with me. The rest of you -- I’ll be right back.”

“Where are we going?” Liz, suspicious.

“I got some more space for this session, in case you all got split up. C’mon.” Monica walked out of her apartment.

Liz followed, reluctantly.

---

Mike, Erin and I looked at each other.

“So much for not splitting the party,” I noted. “So ... while we wait for Monica to come back ... what’s the Arcanatrix’s servant like?”

Mike looked indecisive for a moment about how much to share, but then relented. “She’s not really the Arcanatrix’s servant. The Consigliere kind of comes with the sanctum, as it were.”

“Isn’t it the Arcanatrix’s sanctum, though?” Erin looked confused.

Mike nodded. “Right now it is. But a wizard can challenge for control of the sanctum. I was going to try it last time, but, I uh...” he got a little red in the face and looked away, “ ... I don’t think I was... powerful enough. So I cut a deal with the Consigliere to let us all go, as long as I promised to make a challenge the next time we came to visit.”

“So ... you have to challenge for control of the sanctum this time, then?” I asked.

He nodded. “If I win, even if the Arcanatrix won’t side with us against the Queen, I’ll control the sanctum. It’s a powerful engine for magic and spellcasting; it’d be a huge asset.”

“What kind of challenge is it?” I could imagine what a challenge was going to entail in one of Monica’s games. Jealousy flared in me, again.

“I, uh ... don’t know, exactly. Something about facing your deepest weaknesses and insecurities,” Mike mumbled the words out.

It confirmed my suspicions. I tried to tamp down the jealousy.

“Okay. So can we help you, or...” Erin trailed off as Monica returned, sitting back at the table. We all looked at her, expectantly.

Once she sat, she began speaking.

“You’re all surprised when Lucia vanishes without a sound. You’re even more surprised when, moments later, another figure takes her place. For Chris’s benefit -- the Consigliere is a bit odd, a magical construct. It looks human enough, but there’s something off about the way it moves -- fluid some of the time, unexpectedly birdlike and twitchy others. Like it has read about the way humans move in a book and mostly gets it right.”

Then Monica put on the mask.