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STORY: Kendra - Lv 00, Ch 02
🕑 Added 2017-07-25 21:50:10 +0000 UTCKendra - Chapter 02 - Helga Hammerfist rides again!
(c) 2017 by Shadowriter
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CONTENT WARNING: I don't need to give you content warnings, if you're in my gallery and bookshelf you have a pretty good idea what to expect. ;p
--- LEVEL: 00 ---
Kendra was almost skipping as she hurried back down to the main building, through the double doors and into a fairly small side room off the cafeteria; there was no door, just an open arch separated the club room/lounge from the lunch area. Tim was already here helping Mark setup the table as she walked in.
Chuck was about a minute behind her; "hey, d'you guys see Thrones last night?", he excitedly asked as he crossed the arch.
"No TV", Kendra replied with a sarcastic smirk.
"Of course", Mark said, "I'm recording the series".
"Wasn't it so-", Chuck started.
"Hey, NO SPOILERS!", Tim whined.
"Speaking of Dragons", Mark started, much to Tim's annoyance, "hope you guys are ready to face one without Brother Alvius's protections.", he continued with a sneer, looking forward to putting the party through another lethal encounter unprepared.
"Our cleric bailed?!", Chuck stammered, trying to figure out how they were going take down a blue without lightning resistance.
"Where's Chris?", Kendra asked.
"I told you, he sprained his ankle getting out of bed this morning. If you can't remember that, how do you expect to solve the *Riddle of the Dungeon*? Oh wait, that's right, you don't do puzzles, you just punch things.", Tim replied with a level of arrogance only Voxlorne the Almighty, Wizard Extraordinaire, Savior of the Five Kingdoms, Master of the Ring of... well, he wasn't sure yet, but you'd better believe it was damned cool; he almost died getting that ring from the Kobold's treasure room.
"I punch Voxlorne in the throat... with an 18.", Kendra snapped sarcastically.
"Voxlorne, you are having trouble breathing, you cannot speak or cast spells with a verbal component", Mark smirks, happy the PK-ing has started already.
"What the hell, Ken, now we have no Wizard AND no Cleric!", Chuck says throwing his hands up in frustration.
"Stay in character", the DM prods.
Chuck clears his throat, then Sigmund the Stealthful succinctly asks of his teammate, "... what the fuck!?", then smiles with mock politeness.
"Mark, ", Kendra begins out of character, "we're about to have no Thief too."
"In game, please", Mark scolds.
"Gladly", Helga smiles as she begins popping her knuckles.
"Whoa, whoa; no-no-no-no-no. We're good. You're the leader, its your plan", Sigmund backpedals with his hands in front trying to talk her down, "its a good plan... now maybe we can sneak in without Vox announcing himself to the entire dungeon.".
"Helga continues walking up to Sigmund, then when close enough she grapples", Kendra announced confidently smiling across the table.
"Roll."
"Base 12, but with +14 Athletics that's a 26", Kendra decrees in her best dwarven accent.
"Ha! 17... lets see, with +8 Acrobatics... aw dammit", Chuck says as his smile evaporates into despair.
"You have Sigmund, what do you do with him?", the DM queries.
"I put my arm around his neck and say, 'see, its like I said, all your problems can go away with one well placed punch', then I give him a playful nuggie and let him go.", Kendra says playfully. She wasn't actually going to hurt him, but it was fun to tease him for a moment.
"That's why you're the boss", Sig says with a weak smile, just praying he lives through this adventure.
"It's been long enough, you can speak again Voxlorne", Mark states.
Tim looks as though he's going to lay into her, then swallows as he sees Helga working out the kinks in her knuckles again, "I'm good." A moment later he pulls out a piece of paper and begins scribbling a note, then pauses a moment before handing it toward the DM.
Kendra's eyes narrowed, "you'd better hope I don't make the save."
'How did she know I was going to cast polymorph', Tim thought as he pulled his hand back and crumpled the page.
"You hear a rumble in the distance, it seems all of your fighting has awoken the dragon...", Mark states, trying to get the game moving again.
All three players roll their eyes, knowing full well they hadn't made that much noise.
"So, Boss, how's punching going to take down a dragon", Sigmund asks, hoping she has a plan.
"Well, that depends...", Kendra pauses, tapping her finger quickly on the table before turning to the DM and asking, "is it a boy dragon?"
Her comrades wince at the thought while Mark stares horrified then shakes his head, "you wouldn't..."
Kendra just grins then winks, "how many dungeons do you know that come equipped with a speed bag."
"Actually", Tim corrects, adjusting his glasses, "as its a member of the lizard family, it wouldn't have any external genitalia."
"Roll initiative", Mark said.
"16", Helga states.
"11 for Sigmund" , Chuck added.
"Voxlorne the Almighty, Hero of the Land, Beloved by-", Tim started
"Just out with it", Mark admonished.
Clearing his throat Tim continued, "Beloved by Tavern Wenches Everywhere, Friend to Man and Beast..."
The table groaned as he went on.
"Rolled...", he boldly continued as he dramatically tossed the d20 across the board. "...a one.", he meekly concluded, all his bravado gone.
Chuck couldn't help but laugh, "Karma, dude, shouldn't have overplayed it".
"The dragon got a 15, Kendra, you go first", the Dungeon Master finished.
"Who's Kendra?", Tim and Chuck said in unison, smirking.
"Oh gawd dammit, you know what I meant. Helga, what do you do?", mark snipped.
"I throw a schite covered dart at the dragon... 22. 'Hey, *dragon*, here's schite in yer eye! Ha ha.", Helga boasts.
"Why would anybody-", Tim starts, then gives up.
"Dude, she's a dwarf.", Chuck explains.
Tim and Mark shrug accepting the explanation.
"The dragon charges toward you and attacks", Mark retorts.
"You guys should run.", Helga nods to her comrades.
"It bites you for 17 piercing damage. Roll a strength save.", the DM grins.
"18. If its trying to hold me in its mouth, that's a grapple, I should be allowed to contest it with athletics, right?", Kendra smirks.
"Yeah, go ahead.", Mark concedes.
"28 then."
"Okay, you're out. Sig?"
"I'm going to listen to Ken- er, Helga. She's right, the dragon is pissed, it might be best if I got some distance and took cover.", Chuck replied.
"Okay, and after everybody else on Earth went, its finally Vox's turn.", Mark chuckles.
"Voxlorne the Almighty, Blessed Bearer of the Forbidden Fruit, Examiner of the Lost Chalice, Inventor of-"
"So you spend your whole turn crying your titles to the dragon?"
"Talking is a free action", Tim objects.
"Not the way you do it", Kendra replied, to which Mark and Chuck nodded in agreement.
"Okay fine, 'nice knowing you guys', I cast Lesser Invisibility and sneak out.", Tim retorts.
Kendra tries to signal Chuck with her eyes to do the same. It takes him a moment to catch on, but then he confirmed with a single nod. Mark was busy looking at his monster manual, thus didn't notice the scheme going into effect.
"Helga, your turn."
"I punch it. 19."
"You hit... barely."
Kendra smiled, "I spend a Ki point to stun it for a turn."
Tim and Chuck shared a knowing smile as the DM said, "Fine. Its your turn again.", his irritation clear.
"I spend a Ki point for Flurry of Blows and go to town on the support column. Oh, and I do DOUBLE damage to inanimate objects."
"Motherf-", Mark catches himself.
"Hey DM... 'Rocks fall... your fucking dragon dies'", Kendra high fives across the table to the others as they clear the campaign. "Oh yeah, and for my movement, I get the hell out of there before the whole place comes down."
. . .
"P'pa, I'm home!", Kendra shouted as she came through the door.
"Oh, Kendra, we have a guest", her father announces coming out of the kitchen. Smiling, he hugs his daughter then guides her toward the table. "I'd like you to meet-", he stopped short as he saw the old the woman sitting at the table, looking nothing like the beauty he was just speaking to. 'What the fuck', he mouthed silently to her, making sure Kendra didn't see his reaction before he went back to smiling.
"Mrs. Gatsbrinkle", the woman says, extending her hand and standing up.
"Ah- from across the street... you remember her, don't you?", Samile tried to recover his composure and reassure his daughter he hasn't lost his mind.
"Dad, how could I remember someone you're introducing to me for the first time?", Kendra questioned, a very puzzled and serious look on her face, as though to ask if he were alright.
"I thought maybe you'd- seen her... while you were out walking."
"Sami", the old woman started, a little too familiar as she put her hand on his shoulder and gave him what Kendra worried was lustful gaze, " *always* a pleasure. Don't forget to do that thing you promised."
"Yes of course, it must have slipped my mind", he replied nervously as he covered it up with another swig of coffee.
'He was nervous, but he didn't recoil', Kendra pondered then blurted out, "Oh my God, are you guys *sleeping* together?!"
Coffee went EVERYWHERE as Sami cough-sneezed the brown liquid onto the floor and cabinets.
"Not in some time, dear. Its good to see you again though.", she says as she lightly pinches Kendra's cheek, then walks out the door.
"I'll be in my room", Kendra says, completely creeped out.
Samile tries to chase Mrs. Gats- out the door, but by the time he got there she had vanished. "That wasn't funny", he admonished the heavens.
"Yes it was", he heard whispered in his left ear, which was then licked by an unseen force; followed by laughter then silence.
"Are you trying to make me look crazy!?", he shouted loud enough to make his neighbors nervous.
"Imagine what I could do if you don't give my daughter her birthright", she breathed into his other ear, before taping him playfully on the nose.
He could see her now... well, sort of; she was nearly transparent like glass, except for how light refracted around the edges.
She moved in sensually for a kiss, but instead bit his lower lip, none too gently, but careful enough not to cause injury. She then tugged back and held it there dominantly for several uncomfortable seconds before kissing him and adding, "be a good boy and I'll come visit you later."
. . .
Kendra stared into her computer, mortified, googling the phrase 'mid life crisis'. A few minutes later there was knock at her door.
"Kendra, sweetheart, I know that was a little weird. Please come out and talk to me."
"Did miss cat-sprinkle leave?", she retorted with an edge of sarcasm that she immediately regretted. Her father had always been there for her, he did not deserve this cruelty... whatever it was he was going through, she should try to be supportive. Of course, that nagging feeling of responsibility didn't make the whole thing any less cringeworthy. "Yes. Fine. Enter.", she said trying not to sound upset.
He opened her bedroom door and they stared in awkward silence for almost two minutes, neither knowing what to say to the other.
Sami was the first to recover, "let's go out to eat."
"Why?", she replied, still a bit worried that her father wasn't playing with a full set of dice.
"Its your birthday... I know that was... disturbing, but forget about that for a moment- let's go out for a curry."
"Curry?", still her tone sounded unsure. "Papa, you hate curry."
"I don't hate it... I just don't love it as much as my father did. I haven't had one since you were a bachcha", he said with his hands about a foot apart signaling what she assumed to mean baby.
Kendra glanced back at her search for just a second catching the phrase, 'reversion to native tongue'. That seemed to confirm it, poor P'pa, "Okay, fine." Then a little more confidently, "I would love to go out with my father and learn something about my heritage." (A statement more true than she could possibly know.)
. . .
"What would you like, something spicy? Ever had a Vindaloo?", Samile says looking excitedly at the menu.
"This doesn't seem right, father", Kendra said looking through the menu options, "why would they serve beef in an Indian restaurant? Isn't that a sin?"
"Not everyone believes the same, honey. But yes, the dish was originally supposed to be served with pork; though the Goan chefs that made the dish didn't share the Hindi objection to harming greater lifeforms, they were perfectly willing to use beef if someone asked them to. Its what the British liked best about them. Anyway, it actually started as the Portuguese dish carne de vinha."
"Interesting, But the menu doesn't even mention pork.", Kendra said, taking it all in.
"Not surprising, most Indian restaurants are actually the British bastardization of the cuisine. For some reason, they don't like pork in their curry, but that's why its offered with lamb and mutton. I bet we could get them to make it the traditional way if we asked though."
"Since we're trying something new, why don't we have it made with a mix, a little bit of each, that way we'll know which is our favorite next time", Kendra suggested; the phrase 'next time' made her father smile, perhaps he had not completely ruined this day after all.
"Its your birthday, I'm sure we could arrange that if we tell them.", as he's speaking he secretly nods to the waiter hiding as a patron at the table behind her.
"No, P'pa, what if they sing?", she whined a little embarrassed by the thought of all the extra attention.
"Sing? Nonsense. If anything they'll make a full on dance of it", he teased.
"Papa", she sighed, completely mortified.
"Honestly, darling, you make it too easy sometimes. Do you really think there's a Bollywood flash mob sitting in this restaurant waiting for me to snap my fingers?", his statement wasn't very convincing... perhaps because he stared too long trying to judge her reaction.
"You didn't!", she denied.
"I might have", he said with a smirk, then snapped his fingers to signal the mob.
"Oh my god", was all Kendra could say as most of the people in the restaurant joined in the craziest choreography she'd ever seen in person, all of them moving wildly but in perfect sync. Even her father got up and started dancing... though he was a little out of step with the professionals.
The dance lasted for several minutes, then abruptly ended as their food arrived.
"You rented out the whole restaurant?", Kendra asked exasperated.
"Not the whole restaurant", he shrugged.
"We can't afford this, Papa", she gently admonished.
"The way you've been eating, sweetheart, I think we can this once", he smiled, proud that he was able to do this for his daughter.
. . .
The food was amazing, so many flavors she had never tasted before... or perhaps she had, but never in these combinations; she couldn't tell anymore, the line between familiar and new was completely erased by the chef's masterful work. Perhaps most surprising, to her, was that the spice didn't bother her. Come to think of it, she's never really tried spicy food, but she's seen how other people freak out about it and now she can't understand why they would make such a fuss over it; the warmth was actually pleasant, almost sensual.
For the first time in years she finished her plate; though now she was thinking about it, she was sure she'd regret it in the morning.
Her father almost commented about how pleased he was to see her actually eat something, but quickly thought better of it remembering how touchy the subject was; best to save that minefield for another day.
"Honey", he said to get her to look up from the empty plate she'd been staring at for the past few minutes, "I have one more surprise for you." Sami pulled a small wrapped present from his jacket pocket and handed it to her; it was maybe three inches across by an inch high.
"What is this?", she asked not surprised by the gift as much as the size of the package, what could be in such a small box? If the dimensions were an indication, it was likely expensive, "Papa, you shouldn't have spent so much on me. I'm just happy being able to spend some time with you."
"Well, if you don't want it", he teased, "I'm sure I would look fabulous wearing it."
Too late, curiosity already had its hold, she had to at least know what it was, "now let's not be hasty, I didn't say that, I just wish you didn't have to work so hard to provide for us. I miss you, papa."
"I know, but the house is almost paid off, two or three more years then I can cut back to just one job."
"I love you, papa", she said giving him a hug before opening the gift. Followed shortly by, "oh my God. P'pa, this cost more than your car!"
"What can I say, its a cheap car", he deflected.
"You know what I mean, it too much", she felt very self-conscious about accepting something that may have cost him another year before retirement.
"Don't make such a fuss, it didn't cost as much as you think...", he said leaning in at the end to add, "I found it outside the warehouse." He couldn't tell her where it really came from, not yet anyway.
"I don't know what to say... thank you, papa"
"Say you'll wear it", he suggested, at least partly out of self-preservation.
It was the most gaudy looking gold medallion, intricately etched with amazingly complex patterns, as though the whole surface were a labyrinth without beginning or end. Or, maybe, a circuit of some kind, she sat there studying it for several minutes before her father asked if she were ready to go home. He had to repeat himself... twice, as she was completely engrossed in the puzzling necklace.
. . .
It was late by the time they got home, her father had to get ready to work graveyard. He kissed her goodnight and said he would see her tomorrow night when he got back from the store.
Kendra held and stared at the medallion for hours without realizing it. She could swear that as she ran her finger over it there was a little glow in the pathways. She looked up to see that it was almost 3AM, she had less than four hours to sleep before school tomorrow.
Cursing the time, she set the talisman on her dresser and went to bed.
. . .
Her dreams that night were extremely vivid, but also chaotic. It felt like she had barely closed her eyes when the alarm went off.
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