Chapter 1

The last thing I remember before I wound up in a facsimile of Hell was sitting in a civilian barbershop getting a shave. That involved removing all of the hair on my head, except for my eyebrows. All I know for sure was that I was on leave to take part in the National Championships. I always followed that ritual whenever I was competing, and I felt it was my duty to uphold the dignity of the US Marines by looking my best as I won the MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) championship for the third year in a row. I was scheduled for my second round in the competition for that night, and my match was sold out, as they always have been for the last four years.

The barber was shaving my neck just under my chin when I happened to look in the mirror and saw a large truck headed straight for me. I can remember the look of panic on the driver’s face as he tried to stop before he crashed through the plate glass window at the front of the barber shop. Well, he didn’t manage to come to a full stop. My memory fails me at the moment of impact, so I don’t know how the episode turned out back on Earth, but I do remember waking up on the floor of a tavern, and the tavern looked like it was a movie set for the middle ages.

As nearly as I could tell, I was in perfect physical condition, except for a bump on the back of my head. A man dressed as a bartender was bending over me, and he was talking. “Wake up! Please don’t die here, my tavern’s reputation is already headed for the jakes as it is!”

I was feeling find, except for a mild headache, so I slowly got to my feet with the help of the bartender and a couple of bystanders. “How did I get here, and where is here?”

One of the bystanders answered the questions. “You suddenly appeared on the floor as if by magic, which is no big deal. We have a lot of Wizards in town, and it looks like one of them sent you here to wake up. Man, you must have really annoyed him to have that size of a lump on the back of your head.

“I guess that you have lost your memory. You are in Jake’s Tavern, in the town of Truth, in the country of Isbardia. Other than that, I cannot help you.”

“Thanks, friend. You are right about me not remembering much of anything. Is there a place in town where I can get some treatment for this headache?”

“Yes, there is. Wizard Merkle does most of our medical magic, and she should be able to help you. However, she does not work for free, so you better have the silver to pay her.”

Oops, I stuck my hand in my pocket and pulled out several unfamiliar silver and copper coins. “Do you think that this will be enough to pay for curing my headache?”

“Yeah, that looks like about 37¢. That should cover the cost of a headache spell. You will find her office a block down the street. Turn left as you go out the door.”

“Thank you, Sir.” I said as I walked out the door. I was careful to be polite, since the man talking to me was well armed with a sword in a baldric on his back and a mean looking cudgel hanging at his waist. I was unarmed and still a little fuzzy, but I was intelligent enough not to make him mad at me. I had the feeling that he well knew how to use those weapons and was not all that reluctant to do so. I was not armed with the conventional weapons, not even a folding knife in my pocket. I was going to stay out of fights until I knew more about the local rules and regulations. If magic worked, I couldn’t be anywhere near home!

I made my way to the office of Wizard Merkle and went in as the sign on the door said to do. Hey, I could read the local language, and I suddenly realized that I was conversant in it! What the hell was going on?

Inside, there was a woman sitting in a comfortable-looking chair behind a desk. “Good day, Sir. Have a seat and tell me of your problem.”

I told her about my headache and that I was there for a remedy. She said, “Okay, I cure headaches that don’t involve doing anything but blocking the pain for 25¢. Pay up, and your headache will be gone.” I pulled out all of my money, and she took two of the silver coins. At that moment, my headache went away. Damn, that was better than an aspirin any day!

I stood up and thanked her for her treatment. That was when I had a brainstorm: I needed a job, and I had no idea how to find one. “Please, Ma’am, I am a stranger in town and you have seen all of the money that I have. Can you direct me to a hiring hall. I am willing to do almost any work, so I will not be hard to satisfy to get eating money.”

“Wow, you are desperate! As far as I know, the only jobs available in Truth involve killing demons and monsters. If you can handle that, go see Pete at the hiring hall in the next block. He is always looking for more heroes.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. That is where I am headed next. I will tell him that you were the one who sent me.”

“No need to do that, Pete is my husband, and knows everything I know from our telepathic link. Good luck.”

I left for the hiring hall and found it easily because of the garish sign that identified the place and had pictures of men and women in sometimes odd to me uniforms. Over the pictures was a sign that said “Some of our most famous heroes.”

I went in and introduced myself to a character named Pete Angel. “Good Day, Sir. I am Jim Bonner, and I am looking for a job.”

“Ah, yes. Wizard Merkle said that I should keep an eye out for you. I have several openings available as apprentice heroes. Which category do you fall into? By the way, call me Pete.”

“I really do not know the answer to your question, Pete. Of the photos outside, I seemed to fit on one of the styles pictured, that of a ‘Monk.’ I am an expert with all forms of firearms, but the crossbow was the closest that comes to that. On the other hand, it looked like the Monk only fought with his hands and feet. I was a champion at that sort of fighting, so you have any openings for that specialty?”

“Yes, Jim, as a matter of fact, the position of Monk is the hardest to keep filled. To be truthful, Monks usually do not last long. They usually quit because the work is too tough for them. That is why their pay is the highest. You want to give that a try?”

“Sure, I do not seem to have much choice, do I? Where do I sign up?” Pete handed me a pen and I began speed reading a bunch of forms and initialing them. Finally, I signed a page in the employee book and officially became a Monk.

“Okay, Jim, the first thing you have to do is to get rid of all of your clothes. I have a costume that should fit you very well. By the way, that includes giving up your shoes. You can wear anything you want to as you win it in the field, but apprentice Monks are required to start out almost nude. Go in that changing room and put on the clothes in the locker. You can store your stuff in that locker if you want to.

“You will find some briefs to cover your ass, some cloth to wrap around your feet until you can win some boots in the field, and a fanny pack to store your stuff as you win or find it. The fanny pack is magic so you can store anything in it, no matter what its size, not how many items there are. Well, I should tell you that there is a limit of about 40 items in the fanny pack, but that should not be a problem for you as an apprentice.

“You will be issued one knuckle duster as a weapon, but you may be able to use another weapon if you want to try it. That is up to you, but it is not recommended to apprentices. Go change now, and I will assign you a territory to patrol when you are ready to go out the first time.

Okay, I would go along with the job until I found something better, but I sure didn’t know when or what that would be. Oh, well, I seemed to be in a version of Hell, but nowhere like the one described by my priest when I was growing up. At least the pay of $40 per week in silver would be enough to live on, but I sure would not get rich with it. However, I was allowed to keep any money that I could find or win in battle, so things were not quite as bleak as they seemed at first.

I changed clothes, and I noticed immediately how naked my feet felt. That was in walking because I fought in bare feet in the MMA ring. Oh, well, I would get used to the feeling pretty soon I hoped.

I went back to see Pete, and he gave me my starting assignment. He did tell me that as I emptied an area of demons and monsters I would automatically assigned to the next appropriate area at random, and the wheel would decide that. He pointed to a huge wheel that looked a lot like the “Wheel of Fortune” TV game show wheel as the means of selecting my following assignments. He pointed out that my possible assignments were selected magically by the wheel depending on how well I did with my current assignment.

As I was ready to leave for my first assignment, Pete said, “Do not make this first assignment look too easy, or the wheel might assign new tasks harder than you are ready for.” That was a helpful warning, but I really did not have much of a feeling as to what he was referring to until I had met my first demon or monster.

As I stepped onto the transportation device, Pete reminded me to pick up anything that looked promising to keep in my fanny pack because I might be able to augment my income by selling the potentially useful or magic items that I did not need.

The transfer was so fast that I didn’t experience any sort of sense of transfer. It was just a case of being one place and then in another. Here I was in a wooded area with a meadow just off to my left. I had been told that this was really a training assignment, and my next place would be more dangerous. However, I should not be too relaxed because the demons and monsters that I would meet could kill me if I were careless. That did happen to a small percentage of the apprentices, so I was as alert as I could be, what with not knowing exactly what to expect.

I had arrived safely with no opposition, and that gave me a chance to look around. I appreciated that because this was my first trip to Isbardia, and I really did not know what a demon or monster might look like. I walked toward the meadow, figuring that I wanted to see what might be dangerous as soon as possible, and I got my wish.

I was spotted by what had to be a demon running toward me. This was a goat man who was shaped more or less like a humanoid, but was obviously at least part goat. He did have hands, though, and he was holding a throwing spear in his right hand ready to launch it at me when he was close enough, and three or four more of the same weapon in his left hand. He was yelling something that I assumed to be a war cry with a bleating accent that made it hard to take him seriously.