When the Adventure Chooses You

Ooooh, you stepped in it this time!

You didn’t see it coming, did you? Well, you’ve got to do something about it.

Right – okay, you’ve got this, retrace your steps…

Where did you put it? Where did you leave it last?

Nope, not in the kitchen, though there are the breakfast dishes. Ah, might as well wash them quickly, nothing worse than getting distracted again.

Right. Now that they’re drying on the rack, where did you put that dratted book?

You were right at the good part, you know – where the magic caster is almost defeated, and the bad guy, who’s really not a guy but you’re not supposed to know that yet but they use they/them pronouns so of course it’s obvious, they’re about to wind up for a killing shot, but then you had to get up and do the laundry, then do some actual work, luckily you’re working from home so it’s easier to do a few chores now and then, but with the weather turning and all, you just want to sit down with a cozy blanket and a mug of soup, and snuggle up to finish your book…

If you could find the darn thing!

Bathroom? Nope.

Laundry room? That would be a negatory.

Where else were you?

Think for a minute. Work desk? Not on your life, if you want to keep your job, those mistrusting snots take occasional pictures through the web cam. You specifically embroidered some tees to have Very Bad Words up at the collar, where they can be read.

Wait. You got a package, didn’t you?

And, when you check the little table in the hall, there it is, right where you put it down, to sign for the new books you’ve been waiting for. It seems to have snuggled its way into the new arrivals, amidst the cardboard shreds of your package-opening frenzy. You hate your Roomba, don’t you?

Well, no matter, you know the bookmark is a dead giveaway – though from this angle, it looks like it’s trying to slip back into the spine! You’re silly. Must be the wind.

At least you can put it on the sofa, so that you can take your well-deserved lunch break, stretch it to an hour, and get away from it all. No one really cares about the Jones account, do they? Well, except for Jones, and he’s on vacation. But you didn’t tell your boss that…

But, for now, the appearance of looking busy. You settle at your work station-

And suddenly, you’re transported to a cave!

Your warding staff is already glowing, throwing up an impressive force shield. Cowering behind it are Smith from accounting – you always suspected him of being a bean-counting thief, the outfit now confirms it! – and there’s Andy, head of IT, doing his Druid thing with silicon and superconductors and if you stare at it too long it gets dizzying-

BOOM!

All three of you are thrown back, but your arms are steady, and the spell holds strong. There is a roar, and you can detect the weaselly whine in the sound of the dragon before you. “Where are my reports? Where’s your manager? I’ve tried emailing him three times this morning, and he’s not answering! These tables have to be redone! Why is no one at their desk?”

Through the fire and smoky haze, you see the distinctive floppy hairdo.

It’s the HR Dragon!

The three of you scream in unison, a three-part chorus of despair, and flee down the tunnel.

Forget the treasure, you’ll be lucky to get away with your skin intact!

The tunnel turns into a maze, looking suspiciously like the cube farm at the office. The three of you split up, looking for the exit, but you hear the dragon’s drones: “You are not compliant… You are not following protocol… You need to complete these forms in triplicate in order to proceed!”

You see Smith push an office chair behind him, and a drone goes down. The others stop, shudder, and say, “Harassment in the workplace, Summon The PIP!”

A knife slices the air in front of you, and another drone goes down. Andy chuckles, swinging an ancient mouse by its cord. “Come and get me, if you dare!”

You shake off the paralysis thrown on you, and blast away with your staff. A Performance Improvement Plan is a powerful spell indeed, but it can be countered effectively with the Work From Home Spell.

When Andy punches in the proper code, the hidden doors open at precisely five PM, and you bolt for the exit.

The keyboard clatters, and you wake with a start.

It was a dream!

Oh no, how many pics of you did they take, while you were napping?

With a sigh, you call Andy in IT.

You try to think of something to say…

Andy is also working from home, according to his background image. You don’t even have to explain. “Yeah, I saw. And then, I realized, you were having connectivity difficulties, so I just deleted the feed. Happens with the rest, too. Epidemic, it seems. When you think of me, send me a plate of your awesome chocolate chip cookies, and it’s all good.”

“You live near me, right? I can drop them off tomorrow. Oh, wait, don’t you host a gaming night, or something? Do you want a batch for everyone, or just you?”

He laughs at you, but warmly, not meanly. “For me alone, please, the Nerdy Guild slays monsters online, and food IRL, in equal quantities! I already pay for enough pizza to satisfy a dragon, I don’t need them begging me for your phone number to propose to you! And they would. Wouldn’t matter what gender you are, either, homemade chocolate chip cookies as good as yours are better than… er, well, a lot of things. So I shall be greedy.”

Did you hear that? He… didn’t, did he?

“Anyway, text me when you want to swing by, and I’ll let you know if it’s safe from the ravening hordes. The Cat Guardians will thoroughly vet you, but they’re just looking for a soft lap. Roly-Poly Doggie will beg for treats, they’re in the Cabinet of Bribery at the door. Have a good weekend, okay? Get some sleep. You don’t know this, but Boss comes back from his business trip on Monday, and he’ll be looking for slackers.”

You sign off, bemused.

But at least you’ll have time to make those cookies. Tomorrow.

For now, the book awaits! And you have a whole weekend to finish it! But it won’t last the night, even if you have to sit up past your bedtime.

You prepare – blanket has been waiting for you, holding your shape from when you finally went to bed last night. Bowl of warm soup, huge mug of spiced cider, both nestled on their warming pads. Facilitations facilitated. No sign of the book mark, like it matters? You know where you are. You snuggle in, take a sip, and begin that most important chapter…

“Keltror the Terrible raised their staff, uttering a fierce war cry. ‘Take me on!’ they bellow at you. ‘I shall destroy you, you and your entire family will perish by my hand, just like all the warriors who have come before you!

“What do you do?

“[If you raise your staff and answer defiantly, go to Page 325.]

“[If you laugh, taunt them in kind, and wait for your party to catch up, go to Page 56.]”

What the what?

Last you knew, you were reading a novel, by a known author. When did this turn into a Choose Your Own Adventure book, like you were back in middle school?

You pause. You think. You take the time to consume your soup, and go for some ice cream to boot. If this is a blood sugar crash, you want it fixed pronto.

Nope, the page stays the same. You poke at it, just to make sure.

This is a quirky author, definitely; each book looks like an ancient tome of knowledge, with uncut page edges, and looking almost sentient in the right light. But this is new. Did a snarky publisher lose a bet to an editor?

You cautiously turn to Page 56...

And suddenly, without warning, you’re in the story.

You are the story.

You glow with all the eldritch energy that you had in the dream earlier, staff at the ready. Smith is in his thief garb, grinning, brandishing throwing knives that are as sharp and deadly as Keltror’s claws. Andy grins charmingly, and motions to his team, kitted and garbed like Paladins of the Utmost Order, the geekiest knights you’ll ever see, but oh their plus-fifty breastplates! And Swords of Extra Slicing, with a plus-twenty on every strike, if the wielder also has the Helmet of Exact Truth. And they do, of course.

One delivers a terrible opening salvo: “Well, ack-tcha-ly, your stats have some serious holes in them, so let’s exploit that re-gen time between attacks, shall we?”

And the fight is on!

You shout, and wave your wand, and jagged lightning bolts arc over your allies to strike sensitive points on Keltror’s body. Your allies form a flying wedge, protecting you, and hack away at whatever their suddenly overly-long swords can reach. Smith deploys a back door offense; you note he’s climbing up the giant Keltror’s nether regions to get within stabby range. Andy is playing guard to your flank, when you need a rest period, he keeps the shielding up for you, and zaps off a few of his own levinbolts.

Steadily, steadily, you are wearing the bad guy down! You might win! You open your mouth, to shout encouragement to the troops…

[Turn to Page 155]

Hunh?

THUMP.

Aaaaand you’re on the floor. In your own house, once you thrash yourself out of the weighted blanket, and look around.

No Keltror. No co-workers, morphed into your allies on the field of fantasy.

No ice cream. No cider.

No book, either.

Faint marks in the carpet look like it crawled towards the door on its own. You follow them.

The old mail slot is askew. But the new books you’d ordered are still there, patiently waiting their turn to be read. Maybe, you think, it might be time to change authors for a while, maybe you’re a bit too invested in the Keltror the Terrible series, yes? Maybe let them be terrible, somewhere else, for a while?

Besides, this new author’s series on rainbow-farting unicorns is hilarious, and you know you need some seriously high doses of humor right now.

And also cookies to make, you know.

Once they’re baked to golden-chewy perfection, you package them nicely, and stow them carefully into the car. Getting to Andy’s apartment isn’t difficult, but you take it slow anyway, because those cookies deserve their spectacular presentation. Not chunky crumbs.

Andy’s gracious at the door, though he’s rather quick to relieve you of your burden. Who can blame him, really? You meet the cats, who demand your lap, and Roly-Poly is placated by the treats that are indeed located in the Cabinet of Bribery, set high enough that the cats can’t be accessories to theft.

“Speaking of theft, I’ve been having such weird dreams about Smith from Accounting, and you! Must be that new book you lent me. Thanks, I think? I’ll return it by next week, but now I see why you were suffering on Friday. I’m sure Boss will be a nightmare tomorrow, even online, so duck and cover, to avoid the rampage. Wear a good t-shirt, though, with lots of embroidery on the collar.”

And you look-

There, on the end table. Same cover. Same bookmark.

Do you tell him?

[If Yes, see Page 22.]

[If No, see Page 220.]