Chapter 35
“Come on down to the Skull Door. Stand down, everything is okay,” Pierce’s voice echoed in their minds through the mental link.
Moments later, Evolon, Flint, Ignis, and Grok entered Silas Doombringer’s office, still chattering about Grok’s… unique fashion choices. “I really like that shade of crimson on you, Grok, it brings out your… orcish complexion,” Evolon said, a slight smile playing on her lips as she eyed the muscular orc woman. “Though the dripping blood is a bit much, don''t you think? Hopefully, it’ll wash out of that rather fetching dress.”
“I sat on his face,” Grok explained, matter-of-factly, wiping stray droplets of blood from her crimson-stained dress with the back of her hand. “His puny skull could not handle… all of this,” she added, flexing her thighs for emphasis.
“Ah, my friends,” Pierce greeted them, a hint of relief evident in his voice. “Silas, this is the adventuring party I told you about. They’ve been… instrumental in uncovering some rather significant discrepancies.”
Silas Doombringer, his normally stern face etched with sadness, looked at the group. “Discrepancies which, I understand, involve my… trusted associates.”
Pierce gestured to the overflowing piles of paper on Doombringer’s desk. “These reports, Silas, paint a dramatically different picture than the reality. Your henchmen—Torvin, Mirage, Lucky, and Vivienne—have been systematically deceiving you.”
“Deceiving me?” Doombringer’s voice rumbled with despair. “I… I thought they were loyal. I considered them… friends.”
“Loyal to themselves, perhaps,” Flint muttered, already sifting through a stack of documents. He held up a particularly damning requisition form. “Look at this. Torvin’s requisition for ‘heavy construction materials’ for the new guard barracks. Turns out it was spent on… a rather extravagant personal airship. A gaudy one, I might add, with custom-made gargoyle figureheads.”
Evolon, pointed to another report. “Mirage’s ‘diplomatic mission’ to the Whispering Isles? Actually, a high-stakes gambling spree. He lost a fortune at the tables, apparently. And incurred some rather substantial debts.”
Ignis, sniffed at a document. “This one smells of Vivienne’s perfume. ‘Supply chain management optimization’… more like ‘personal shopping spree at the Enchanted Emporium.’ Extravagant taste, that woman. Look at this receipt for a diamond-encrusted comb for her pet griffon.”
As the party detailed the extent of the deception, Doombringer’s face grew increasingly grim. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, a gesture of frustration and a deep sense of betrayal. “They… they were supposed to be taking care of my affairs, managing the city, while I grieved for my father. I entrusted them with so much.”
Grok stepped forward, her expression surprisingly serious. “They were building their own power base, Silas. And their ambitions extended far beyond mere embezzlement. They were planning to assassinate the Donner Party, then you, and seize control of the council.”
Doombringer’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Assassinate me? Join the council… and then murder them as well? To what end?”
“To rule with an iron fist,” Flint stated flatly. “They envisioned a Doombringer Empire, with themselves at the top, naturally.”
A long, heavy silence filled the room. Doombringer sank into his ornate chair, his expression a mixture of anger, disbelief, and a profound sense of foolishness. “I… I trusted them. Gave them so much power. How could I have been so blind?”
“Speaking of power,” Pierce asked his party, “what do we do with these twenty units of Cadium?”
“Give it to Grok, of course,” Evolon said, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder and smiling warmly. The rest of the group readily agreed.
Grok, genuinely astonished by their generosity, blinked as a notification appeared in her vision: “Cadium Procured, twenty units consumed.”
Pierce nodded at Doombringer. “A valuable lesson, Silas. One I learned about myself in my previous life. Trust, but verify.” He explained the concept, recounting his experiences working IT trouble tickets where users often claimed they had rebooted their devices, but checking the system uptime proved them wrong. Doombringer seemed to grasp the concept quickly, a spark of understanding flickering in his eyes.
Changing the subject smoothly, just as tears began to well up in Silas’ eyes, Pierce said, “Silas, this is Ignis. He’s an accomplished chef back on my planet. Would you mind showing him how your Mana Infusion Device works?”
Doombringer readily agreed and led Ignis on a tour of his personal laboratory. The room was filled with arcane gadgets and a collection of what appeared to be failed contraptions. Ignis, wide-eyed with wonder, recognized several devices he had seen for sale on the streets of Doombringer, albeit in much less refined forms.
“What do you call this one?” Ignis asked, pointing to a complex contraption humming with magical energy.
“It’s… well, it doesn’t have a name yet,” Doombringer admitted. “We’ve been too busy refining the process to worry about nomenclature.”
The group brainstormed, suggesting names like "Mana Forge," "Aetherium Engine," and "The Great Infuser." They eventually settled on "The Culinary Conduit," or just "Conduit" for short, a name that resonated with the device''s function.
Ignis then sheepishly apologized for taking three crates full of the devices from the warehouse when they entered the castle. Silas simply laughed, suggesting it was a rounding error and that he could keep as many as he liked.
As the initial shock of the betrayal wore off, the conversation turned to the future. Pierce, drawing on his experience managing teams, offered Doombringer advice on finding trustworthy individuals to manage his city, business, and planet. He even recommended a few honest, hard working people he had met during their scouting trip to the Clock Tower district. Ignis suggested bringing on Gustavo as his right-hand man to help him verify the information provided to him.
“Gustavo would be perfect,” Pierce said with a laugh. “No one would suspect a slimy personality like his to actually be the one reporting the truth to the boss.”
“Your city… it’s impressive,” Flint said, sharing a look with his friends. “The prices are certainly… agreeable.”
“But,” Evolon added, “the people… they seem oppressed. Living in fear.”
Doombringer sighed. “Everyone seems so happy when I visit the City…”
Pierce countered gently, “You can’t build a strong foundation on fear, Silas. You need loyalty, respect… and most of all, freedom.”
“And,” Grok chimed in, “no more invading other planets! Peace is good.”
Doombringer considered their words carefully. “I… I see your point. Their methods… Perhaps they need… adjustment. I pledge to use my forces only for defense from now on. I will even loan out my undead army to defend my allies as needed, and I will call a gathering in the City to declare the end of oppression in Doombringer.”
Flint stifled a yawn. “Speaking of defense… I’d really like to defend my own bed tonight. With Ignis’ portals, we can be anywhere in moments, right?” The rest of the group nodded in agreement, weariness finally catching up with them.
Before they left, Doombringer’s eyes twinkled with a hint of excitement. “Before you go… would you like to see my father’s most cherished possession? Something only the council members know about?”
He led them to a hidden chamber behind his office. Inside, a swirling vortex of energy shimmered and pulsed. “This,” Doombringer announced, a note of pride in his voice, “is a portal. But not just any portal. This one leads to a wider universe. A universe where mana density is far greater than in this world. There are planets where twenty units of Cadium is considered… paltry. Where Cadium, being crystallized mana, is far more prevalent.”
Pierce and the party exchanged excited glances. “A wider magical universe?” Evolon breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. “The possibilities…”
“Indeed,” Doombringer said. “I inherited the portal from my father. He used it sparingly, always hesitant, even fearful, of what he found on the other side. I’ve been hesitant to use it myself, to be honest.”
“Adventure is what we do,” Pierce declared, a grin spreading across his face. “But…” He looked at his companions, noting their fatigue. “How about we take the weekend to wind down? This whole ordeal has been… emotionally taxing.”
The others readily agreed, a collective sigh of relief escaping them.
“Excellent,” Doombringer said. “Then let us plan an expedition for a few days from now. I can’t wait to hear stories of your travels. My father never spoke of his time spent there, only hinting at the wonders and dangers that awaited beyond.”
The portal shimmered and dissolved, depositing Pierce, Evolon, Flint, Ignis, and Grok back on Earth. They stumbled slightly, adjusting to the familiar gravity and the sudden absence of the ambient magic that had become almost background noise. A wave of exhaustion washed over them. They were home and safe For the first time in weeks, they would sleep in their own beds. A few minutes of driving or biking later, they were all tucked into their respective beds, Grok comfortably settled in Evolon’s guest room adjusting to the soft bed and throwing most of the decorative pillows to the floor.
The next morning, Saturday, their phones reminded them, signaling the start of a bright and clear day. The group, despite their interdimensional adventures, reconvened at their usual spot: the Waffle House. Miraculously, the restaurant had remained open throughout the recent invasion, a testament to the grit of its cook and manager, who had apparently fended off any unwelcome visitors with a combination of well-aimed frying pans and stern words. They eagerly served anyone who needed a hot meal in the aftermath of the chaos, their generator humming outside providing electricity to the small restaurant. The familiar smell of waffles and freshly brewed coffee was a welcome comfort.
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Ignis, while enjoying his All-Star Special with biscuits and gravy rather than a waffle, pulled out his phone and dialed Roxie’s number. He chatted with her for a while, the conversation flowing easily and naturally. Finally, emboldened by his recent triumphs and a newfound sense of confidence, he worked up the courage to ask her out on a real date, finally getting up the nerve to make a personal connection outside of Dungeons and Dragons. Roxie, surprised but pleased, accepted. Ignis grinned, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. The date was set for that evening.
After breakfast, the group activated another portal, this time leading back to Dunblag. Pierce sought out Gustavo, finding him amidst the bustling marketplace, haggling over the price of some exotic spices. “Gustavo,” Pierce began, “I have a proposition for you. Silas Doombringer needs a reliable, right-hand man. Someone to double-check the work of his newly appointed managers, to ensure they are indeed trustworthy. Someone who can’t be easily fooled. I recommended you for the position.”
Gustavo’s eyes widened. His newfound wealth from the auction, while substantial, had proven to be a double-edged sword. The other merchants, envious of his sudden fortune, had blacklisted him, refusing to trade with him or even acknowledge his presence. He had a mountain of gold he couldn''t spend. “Doombringer’s right-hand man?” he repeated, a flicker of his old ambition returning to his eyes. “I accept! It would be an honor, and a much-needed opportunity.”
Evolon, meanwhile, spent her Saturday with Bethril, the orcish leatherworker. They worked side-by-side, crafting intricate leather armor, with gossip filling the workshop. Later, they relaxed at a local bathhouse, enjoying the steam and the soothing warmth of the mana-rich mud. Evolon realized that Bethril, despite her gruff exterior, needed some girl time, a chance to unwind and de-stress. She confided in Evolon about her troubles with her husband, Ongor. He was always so focused on his work, she explained, and then would gamble away their hard-earned savings at The Sands. Evolon listened patiently, offering words of comfort but wisely refraining from giving unsolicited advice. She understood that Bethril didn''t necessarily want her problems fixed, she just needed a trusted friend to talk to, someone who would listen without judgment.
Flint, headed straight to the Red Sands arena. He entered the fighting pit and competed in three matches, betting on himself to win each one. Despite his victories, he was less than thrilled with his winnings. After his recent bouts, his odds were so bad that he barely doubled his money in the parley. Disappointed with the meager return, he spent the rest of his day in the Forges with Ongor. They exchanged smithing techniques, discussed the finer points of crafting weapons and armor, and debated the merits of different forging methods.
Ignis returned to Chef Zep’s restaurant, eager to put his culinary skills to good use. He offered to help in the kitchen, creating a special menu for that day only, showcasing dishes inspired by his Earthly culinary expertise. He also pitched an exciting idea to Chef Zep: “How about we set up a regular exchange program. It would be great for both of our businesses, a chance to share our unique culinary styles.” Chef Zep, intrigued by the proposal and the potential for cross-cultural culinary exchange, readily agreed. They began to sketch out a tentative schedule for future collaborations, discussing logistics and menu ideas. Ignis left a portal between the two restaurants'' stockrooms open. He could easily close it with a thought if any problems ever arose.
Grok, having no permanent residence on Earth other than the hideout in Dunblag, accepted Evolon’s suggestion that they become roommates. It made perfect sense; they spent so much time together anyway, and sharing a living space would simplify their lives considerably. They even started playfully bickering about the logistics of sharing an apartment. Evolon teased Grok about her messiness, how she left plates, glasses, and dirty clothes scattered around the apartment. Grok, in turn, rolled her eyes at Evolon’s extensive collection of beauty products crowding the bathroom counter, wondering why she needed so many different creams and lotions.
Grok spent her day a little differently. Bromli had located a group of Drakes in the nearby mountains. Grok, feeling a pull towards these magnificent creatures, spent much of the day with them, making friends with the majestic beasts and helping to care for their young. She found a sense of purpose in nurturing the drakes, drawing on her experience working at the Clan Zotto stables back in Dunblag. A pang of sadness hit her as she thought of the empty stables and the friends she had lost in the invasion, but she pushed the grief aside, focusing on the present and the opportunity to help these incredible creatures. She mounted Bromli, activated her invisibility ring and proceeded with a secret mission in the city of Dunblag.
Ignis’s restaurant, now renamed “Elysian Palate,” buzzed with an unusual energy. Tonight was the night. His date with Roxie. But it was also much more than that. It was the night his restaurant would be reborn, transformed into something truly special.
Just before closing for the dinner rush, five sleek, metallic boxes appeared on the prep counter. Ignis, with a flourish and a touch of theatrical flair, revealed their contents: the Mana Infusion Devices, or as they now called them, "The Conduits." He gathered his staff, including a slightly bewildered Chef Zep, in the kitchen.
“Everyone,” Ignis announced, his voice filled with excitement and anticipation, “I want to show you something incredible, something that will revolutionize how we cook.” He gestured towards the Conduits lined up on the counter, looking like simple microwaves with no buttons or dials. “These,” he explained, “are Mana Infusion Devices. They can imbue ordinary ingredients with mana, enhancing their natural flavors to an unbelievable degree, unlocking their true potential.”
He demonstrated the device, placing a simple carrot inside the box, closing the door for a few seconds before opening the door and retrieving the orange vegetable. The change was instantaneous. The carrot, once common, glowed with a faint, internal light, almost as if it were radiating pure flavor. Chef Zep and the sous chefs cautiously tasted it. Their eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Incredible,” he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. “The carrot… it tastes… more carrot-y than any carrot I’ve ever had!” The group of sous chefs gathered around him chuckled, but they all nodded in agreement after trying a piece themselves. The difference was undeniable.
Ignis then infused a piece of beef. The same transformation occurred. The beef looked richer, more succulent, the marbling more pronounced. “Taste this,” he urged Chef Zep, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s like turning Skirt Steak into Kobe, but turned up to 11!”
The chef took a bite. He chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, his eyes closing involuntarily as he experienced the explosion of taste. “Magnificent!” he exclaimed, a genuine expression of pleasure on his face. “The beef… it’s… beefier! It’s like… like the essence of beef, concentrated and amplified!”
The staff, initially skeptical of Ignis’s claims, were now buzzing with excitement. They eagerly experimented with different ingredients, infusing everything from spices and herbs to vegetables and various cuts of meat. The results were consistently astonishing. The flavors were amplified, purer, more intense. It was as if the mundane versions of these foods were mere shadows of their true potential, a pale imitation of the real thing.
Chef Zep, inspired by the transformative power of the Conduits, created a special, temporary menu for the evening, a fusion of Earthly and otherworldly ingredients, all enhanced by the Conduit. He called it “The Convergence Menu,” a fitting name for the blending of culinary styles and the enhancement of natural flavors.
The first diners arrived, curious about the buzz surrounding the restaurant and the rumors of magical cuisine. They ordered drinks and agreed to the new fixed menu, and their reactions were nothing short of ecstatic. Word spread quickly through the city and beyond. Food critics from across the region flocked to the Elysian Palate, eager to experience the culinary magic firsthand. Patrons lined up outside, willing to wait hours for a chance to taste the extraordinary food.
The reviews were glowing, filled with superlatives and praise. Critics proclaimed the Elysian Palate as offering the best food they had ever tasted, a culinary experience unlike any other. And the most surprising part? The chef behind this culinary revolution was an Orc, not an invading Orc, but a peaceful resident of another planet, a gentle giant with a passion for food. He greeted every table at the end of their meal with grace and charisma. The story became a sensation, adding to the restaurant’s newfound fame and drawing even more curious diners.
Meanwhile, Pierce, having concluded his business with Gustavo, returned home, feeling a sense of accomplishment. He met with his lawyer, Austin, an old friend from college. Over a relaxed dinner, they finalized the paperwork to manage the group’s affairs while they were off adventuring. The bag of gold they had acquired was sold, and the substantial proceeds placed in a secure trust, ensuring their financial stability. Austin would handle everything, from paying bills to managing investments.
Pierce also discussed the delicate matter of the group’s jobs. They couldn’t exactly hold down regular employment while exploring the universe and saving the world. Austin agreed to take care of the matter discreetly, informing their employers of their… extended leave of absence, citing a vague but plausible excuse.
"So," Austin began, swirling the remaining wine in his glass, "The Donner Party. I have to ask. Why?"
Pierce chuckled, spearing a particularly succulent piece of medium-rare beef. "It''s a long story."
"I''ve got time for my most important, and wealthiest client," Austin replied, leaning back in his chair.
Pierce took a deep breath. "Okay, so, picture this: Four ravenous D&D players, fresh off the campaigns final session. We''re starving, right? We go to this place, packed to the gills, two-hour wait. The hostess, bless her heart, starts calling out, ''Donner party of four? Donner party of four?'' No one answers. She does it three times. My stomach’s growling so loud you could probably hear it in the next county. Finally, I stand up and yell, ''We''re the Donner Party!''"
Austin raised an eyebrow, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Okay…I’m starting to see where this is going."
Pierce grinned. "Yeah, well, it gets better. We finally get seated, food arrives, and Flint, he’s always been a bit…morbid…takes a bite of his steak and deadpan says, ''Tastes a lot like human.'' Evolon chimes in with, ''Needs more salt.'' And Ignis adds, ''Buttery, though. Very buttery.''"
Austin burst out laughing. "You’re kidding me."
Pierce shook his head. "I wish. For the rest of the meal, we just kept going with it. ''Oh, this wine pairs nicely with…you know…long pig.'' ''Anyone want seconds on…shoulder?'' We were awful. Absolutely awful."
"So, that’s it? One morbid dinner conversation?"
"Pretty much," Pierce admitted. "We kept the inside joke going, a week later when we rolled up new characters and started a new campaign, we needed a new party name. The Donner Party was fresh in our minds, and, well…it stuck. We figured it was memorable, at least."
Austin chuckled, shaking his head. "Memorable is one word for it. I’m just hoping the press doesn’t get wind of the…inspiration…behind the name."
Pierce shrugged. "Hey, all publicity is good publicity, right? Besides," he added with a wink, "it makes for a great conversation starter."
"You guys are being hailed as heroes by some, and the cause of the calamity by others. The world has been so involved in the Marvel movies for so long, it''s like you guys are real Avengers in the flesh, here on Earth." Austin laughed at the absurdity.
Sunday morning, the group, refreshed and ready for action, met up at “The Castle,” a popular mountain biking trail system in Bentonville. They spent the morning riding the trails, navigating the challenging jumps, berms, and technical sections, enjoying the thrill of the ride and the camaraderie of their group. The city was showing visible signs of recovery from the recent invasion. Mountain biking tourists were returning to the area, a sure sign that things were getting back to normal and that the community was healing.
For lunch, they headed to Wright’s BBQ, a local favorite just off the square in Bentonville. The familiar aroma of smoked meats wafted through the air, a welcome change from the exotic, sometimes bizarre, smells of the other worlds they had recently visited. Surrounded by other mountain bikers, their bikes leaning against the wooden railings of the deck, they enjoyed the delicious food and the easy conversations. They relaxed in the sunshine, soaking up the natural beauty of their home planet, appreciating the familiar sights and sounds after their interdimensional travels. The casual atmosphere and the shared love of mountain biking created a sense of community and normalcy, a comforting reminder of their lives here on Earth.
Monday morning arrived quickly. The weekend had flown by in a blur of activity and relaxation. The group, well-provisioned for a long trek, gathered at Silas Doombringer’s office. They meticulously checked their gear, making sure they had enough supplies for an extended journey into the unknown. They packed pre-cooked meals, energy drinks, first-aid kits, and of course, their weapons and enchanted gear. A final headcount was made, and with a mix of excitement and a touch of nervous anticipation, they stepped through the shimmering portal to the wider universe, ready for whatever adventures awaited them in this new and expansive realm.