Friday Short Story #2: Fizzik and Time

Prompt: "DnD hero time travels to a modern age but orcs, dwarfs and elves are still around. Tone: humorous"

“Talk to the Time Wizard they said. It’ll be fun they said.” Fizzik grumbled through his gorget as he made his way down the unusually smooth road he found himself on. Armor clinking with every step.

A few days ago, his party had found a particularly skilled wizard in the hamlet of Bentaghast. Each of his team took turns getting blasted into some other time by this shady character, only to come back to camp raving about the wonders they found in past or present. Fizzik had only been whenever he was for a few minutes and he already hated it.

For one, it was hot, even though the sun was setting. That would be fine near a volcano. Or in the desert. You know, places where it’s supposed to be hot. But so far as Fizzik could tell, this was just a city. A HUGE city. It had trees and everything, so it wasn’t in a desert. Who would even build a city in a place so hot without ore deposits or port to make it worth it? Crazy people, that’s who.

The buildings didn’t seem to help. In Fizzik’s time, all the buildings were stone or wood. Cool materials that didn’t reflect heat and light. This entire city seemed to be built of glass and metal. The result was resplendent in its beauty, but damn if all that glass didn’t just make the place brighter and hotter.

Instead of a bustling main street of people, horses, and carts, the city roads were plagued by rumbling beasts on four wheels. They charged and halted in unison as if signaled by some unseen herd master, and threatened to trample any people that took too long to cross any road. They were terrifying. Especially to a Halfling like Fizzik.

As he walked, some small comforts began to show themselves. The fellow lounging on the park bench was clearly an elf, though he was dressed very strangely. The person opening the shop down the street was noticeably a she-orc. She had the traditional piercings, but also wore strange garb. In fact, it seemed that, regardless of race, everyone Fizzik saw was wearing cloth clothing in every color imaginable. No weapons, no leathers, no plate. The only thing people seemed to be carrying with them were glowing rectangles.

“Nice cosplay!” came a sudden voice from the right. Fizzik barely turned in time to see a gnome waving as he rocketed by, inside one of the rumbling beasts. His head sticking out from what seemed to be a port hole in the beast’s mid-section.

“What in Talo’s name did that mean?!” Fizzik thought to himself, anxiety continuing to rise. “This time seems so hostile and strange but no one is armed! I need to find some protection before things get too intense. Curse that wizard for making me leave my axe at the door!”

Picking up his clanking pace, Fizzik soon spotted a young dwarf woman with bright pink hair walking his direction, clearly enamored by the glow of her personal rectangle.

“You there! Dwarf!” His Halfling voice piped up, slowly pulling her eyes off the devise to meet his own. “You and yours surely must know where I can get a solid axe around here. Are you willing to aid my quest?”

The young dwarf woman simply stared back at him with heavy lidded, judging eyes before taking a deep sigh to reply.

“Ok first of all, ask my great grandma. I’m a barista. And second, the PC word is ‘son or daughter of Gloin’ so check your bigotry, tiny one.”

With that, she shouldered past him and turned back to her rectangle. But before going too far, Fizzik heard her mumble from behind him, “Nice cosplay though.”

More nonsense! More mysteries! Beginning to feel true panic, Fizzik sat at a bench nearby in an attempt to collect his thoughts. As he did, the sun was finally beginning to set, and the city began to change. Where there were tubes of glass before, suddenly they crackled to life with internal lightning. The eyes of the wheeled beasts in the streets began to glow with the same enchantment. And finally, even the streets were lit from above with the cleanest tempest energy Fizzik had ever seen.

“Merciful Talos this is beautiful!” Fizzik exclaimed out loud as the city darkened and lit up at the same time. While he had earned his heroism by being the best tempest cleric in the known world, even he could never imbue so many items with lightning as he now saw stretched before him. Even the horizon glittered to life as the sun made its way into shadow.

After staring at the marvel for a while, the primal threat of coming night reminded Fizzik of his disarmed state. Committing the scene to memory, he shook himself from his revelry and began searching out an armory.

While on his way, he saw what were clearly taverns. Full of people drinking and laughing. Nice to see some things never change. He passed merchant stores with entire walls of glass, made to exhibit more of the strange, flimsy looking clothing everyone was wearing. He even passed stores selling the enchanted rectangles that seemed to be so popular. But no armory!

Tired, a bit hopeless, and wondering just how long he was going to be stuck in this time, Fizzik’s path quickly had him lost in the tangle of glass, metal, and stone. Until, looming over him on the corner of the street was something he truly recognized. A cathedral.

Like the bars, places of faith were always evident to Fizzik no matter where or when he was. There were just some things people got right so long ago, they always looked the same. Only the people and styles changed within those spaces, not the spaces themselves. The building that loomed before him had all the markers of a sacred space, from extra fancy stone fenestration to lofty ceilings. Its familiarity called Fizzik like the moon to a wolf.

“Welcome traveler,” a fellow halfling greeted as Fizzik entered through the large front doors. The greeter was about Fizzik’s height but was garbed in simple homespun robes. Another comfort to have found.

“You seem lost, are you alright?” the Halfling went on.

“Thank you for your concern brother. “Fizzik replied, “I am but a simple tempest cleric looking for some comfort. Do you know where I can find a weapon to defend myself or a place for me to sleep?”

“Master Above, you’re a cleric sworn to the tempest? In these days?! From where do you hail traveler?” The Halfling man’s eyes were full of shock as he now fully took in Fizzik’s armor.

The robed man continued to sputter and ramble as Fizzik’s attention shifted to take in the cathedral. While all the architecture was familiar, certain oddities began to reveal themselves with deeper observation.

Every stained glass in the cathedral depicted the same icosahedron shape in various orientations. Some also had other smaller polygonal shapes as well, but few in comparison. In the pews of the church stood elves, humans, orcs, half-elves, and halflings all congregated together. Each of them was shaking a velvet bag that clacked from within to the rhythm of their strange chanting.

Returning his focus to the still rambling robed Halfling, Fizzik cut him off mid-sentence, “What kind of faith is this?!”

“- and to find you here I mean… What?” The robed Halfling responded to Fizzik’s interjection.

“What. Kind. Of. Faith. Is. This!” Fizzik repeated.

“Oh! I suppose you wouldn’t know given your faith…Well! About 100 years ago our great scholar Nuldate was able to crack the mechanisms of the gods!” The Halfling said with a flourish that gestured to all the stained glass windows. “No other faith in the history of civilization has so perfectly predicted occurrences in our world and it is all thanks to that shape right there.

Looking back to the glass Fizzik strained his ears to make out what the members of the congregation were chanting.

All around him the voices of all the races echoed,

“Roll for initiative!”