Gerry stared down at the symbols he drew on the ground, then back at the tattered copy of “The Joy of Spellcasting”. I must have done something wrong, he thought. Something should have happened by now. He slammed the book closed and sat on a tombstone. “This was our last hope”, he said, “Now what?” He hung his head and started to weep.
“Pardon me, foul vagabond,” a ragged voice said. “Could you point me in the direction of the Tower of Ted the Off-White? We seem to have been teleported during a climatic confrontation.”
Gerry looked up to see a crazed old man wearing, what looked like, armor made from paper mache. Along with the crazed old man there was a very short zombie, a poodle dog and the largest dragon he had ever seen.
“I…um…think the Gods sent you to help my village,” Gerry said.
“The Gods?” The Insane Knight said. “Never met them. They sound like a nice family, though. Ooh! We’re in a cemetery! Spooky!”
Gerry looked down at the zombie.
The zombie shrugged.