“Blessed are those ignorant of Light.”

Where are the first words written in the new tabletop book Frenley got today. His old campaign has finally come to a close, a satisfying ending after two years of playing. So, in the search for a new system to try out before one of his friends gets an idea for a new campaign, he found this book in his local gaming store. The premise looked cool: a simple stat system with most power coming from equipment, and something called Runes that allows for a lot of creativity between builds.

The setting for this game seems very well established, which Fren does not like. It leaves no room for him to brew his own narrative. But nothing the good old ignore can't fix. His fingers flip the pages, reading over the rules, races, and classes for the game.

“Um, interesting..”

There were no abilities or spells you gained per level in a class; levels weren't even a thing in the game. The only thing classes did was set up your initial equipment and stats. It seems the DM is encouraged to give equipment and runes after every session, so players have ample supplies to build their dream character. But players could not equip all the equipment and runes they wanted. Each character can only have three active runes at a time, and equipment takes up a portion of the character's stat.

“Huh, I really like that.”

Fren could not contain his excitement as he read the rules and began to theorycraft the kind of character he would make. But he knew that, as the one introducing the system to his friends, he had to GM the game for them. Not like that ever stops him. Getting out his pencil and a copy of the character sheet, Frenley started to fill it out. It didn't really take long; in less than five minutes, he was done with it. In his palms, he held the summary of the life of his new Fey character. A soft smile on the man's face as he puts the sheet down and stands up from his seat.

“Let's go to bed early today.. Work today was a bitch.”

The man walked to the bathroom, turning on the light as he entered it. He stared at himself for a few seconds. Black straight hair that was getting a bit long and brown eyes. An average face and even more average build. His sedentary lifestyle and lack of going to the gym have caused the man to grow a bit of a belly, nothing crazy yet, but getting there. Frenley sighed as he started to brush his teeth.

‘I really need to start hitting the gym.’

With idle thoughts circulating in his mind, Frenley finished with his nightly routine. A yawn creeps up as he gets closer to his bed. The man lay in his bed, covering himself with his blanket. But instead of going to sleep right away, he took out his phone and started doomscrolling. The blue light of his phone illuminated his face as he lay on his back. Memes, edits of fictional characters, news, and the odd video of a couple that makes his heart wither in loneliness. Once his FYP started to show more and more couples, Frenley closed the app. Deciding to go to bed now before his thoughts start to eat him up.

The man slowly closes his eyes and drifts to dreamland.

A sharp gasp of cold air enters his lungs, and Frenley sits up. His hands touch cold, wet stone. The smell of mold and water enters his nose, causing the man to cover up his mouth and nose.

“What in God's name!?”

Frenley could not believe what was happening; one second, he was sleeping, and the next, he found himself in a dark dungeon. His breathing slowly started to pick up. His heart beats like drums of war. His eyes darted all around him; the darkness felt suffocating. The torches provided no light, no warmth, and no safe haven against the coldness of the shadows. Frenley stood up, metal clacking, causing his heartbeat to spike and sweat to break out on him. The clanking followed him as he retreated, till his back touched a cold brick wall. It was only when he felt the leather armor press against the robes that covered his body that he looked at himself.

Soft leather armor adorns his chest, legs, and arms. Flowing blue robes cover his lean body. A straight sword hangs from his right hip and a pouch on the left. His left hand was holding a weird effigy of a tree. His breath became heavy as he tried to make sense of what was going on.

“Okay, okay.. let's think this through. Breathe..breathe”

His slow, even breathing helps calm him, and his fingers run through his hair. Pushing some of the strands of hair away from his face.

“What the hell is going on?”

‘You have been selected as a dreamer.’

“What the fuck!?”

And just like that, Frenley was hyperventilating once more.

“Who said that!?”

‘I did’

“Show yourself!”

Fren looks around as he tries to draw the sword from his scabbard, failing two times to do so.

‘I cannot.’

“Why not!?”

‘The blind can't be seen.’

“…..The fuck that has to do with you not showing yourself?”

Silence consumed his mind as he looked around. The darkness continued to envelop him. Yet no matter how much he waited, she didn't answer. As his breathing calmed down and he regained some control of his own mind and emotions, he spoke once more.

“Can you please tell me what this place is?”

‘These are the old Catacombs, the starting place of every dreamer.’

“What is a dreamer?”

‘Are those selected by the Moon Queen to walk the lands of the Sun King. Task with ending the madness’

“Why me? I am nothing special.”

That question she didn't answer, Frenley started to build a profile of this woman in his mind. She seems to answer only specific questions, as if she had a script to read from. But whenever he deviated from it and asked something not in the text, she didn't answer. Like an AI. If the AI had the voice of a caring milf.

“Can you tell me how to get out of here?”

‘Complete the tutorial.’

“How do I start the tutorial?”

With a soft laugh, like waiting for this moment, the voice spoke.

‘Walked forward, sugar.’

“Why are you southern now?”

That question she didn't answer.

After a small sigh, Frenley took his first step forward, then his second. Sword in his right hand, effigy on the left. The man walks with unsure steps, his eyes looking at the darkness like a sworn enemy. Once he passes the starting point, the carrying voice of the woman echoes in his mind once more. Initiating the conversation for the first time.

‘Defeat those touched by light and reach the final room of the dungeon.’

Before he got to ask his question, a humanoid figure came into view. A small room made of bricks greeted him. Old wooden furniture decorated the room. The humanoid figure, wearing what seemed to be old peasant clothing, was looking at the flickering light of a wax candle. Enamer by the light. A simple spear rested between its hands. Fren's heart sank as he took a step back from the human.

‘Fear not those lost in the light. They may look like you, but they aren't. Deliver them the mercy of the Moon Queen.’

Fren wanted to speak, but stopped himself, afraid that the sound of his voice would alert the figure. His heart beat rapidly as his eyes continued to look at the back of the figure. Emotion slowly started to drag him down, his morality slowed his thoughts, and the idea that whatever he was doing was wrong felt like chains putting him in place. But it seems like Frenley's heavy breathing has alerted the figure. As the peasant turned to face him, it was then, as Fren looked at its face, that he realized what the voice meant.

The figure’s mouth was open, revealing no teeth and black, rotting gum. Its eyes were blazing like the sun. The figure groaned, speaking a language he didn't understand. The figure took a step forward, pointing its spear at Fren.

‘Remember, sugar, that in front of you, it's not a human. It deserves no guilt from you but all your mercy. End it in the name of the moon.’

Like a mother guiding her child to face its fears, the woman’s voice soothed his nerves. His heart beat slowly as he got into position. A singular phrase keeps repeating in his mind, bringing him peace and strength. With teeth grinding, Fren pushes the spear to the side, quite easily, when the figure was moving at a snail's pace.

“In the name of the moon!”

He stepped forward with a quick step, pushing his sword deep into the figure's throat. Blood drowned its groans of pain, its hands dropping the spear as it tried to grab Fren's face. Frenley kicked the peasant in the stomach, pushing him back as he drew his sword out of his throat. Causing red blood to spill out of the wound, painting its rags and the floor beneath them. The fire in its eyes went away as the figure fell to the ground.

Guilt tried to eat away at his heart, but it never did. For another feeling overwhelmed him. It was not nausea from killing something for the first time or seeing blood. But excitement and adrenaline. A small smile crept up his face as Frenley took a step over the dead body. His logical mind was screaming at him that he should not feel this way for killing a fellow human. But, as if hearing his thoughts, the woman spoke again.

‘All touched by light wish to kill you and corrupt you. Let them not win you over. Fight them, kill them, and win.’

“Yea..but it's still bordering on insanity.”

‘Correct, which is why we must remain strong of mind and body against it. This is very different from your normal life. So think of things that remind you of your humanity.’

Fren did just that as he continued. He thought of his friends, the taste of his favorite meal, the current series he was reading, and the shows he was watching. But one thing etched itself deep into his mind.

“Can't die while being a virgin.”

‘Now that would be sad.’

“…What the fuck?”

He could have sworn that his cursing caused the female voice to giggle, but he shook his head. No point in arguing with an AI. Fren started walking again and soon arrived in a larger room. This room had three of the peasants in it. Two were close to the middle of it, looking at each other's eyes, each holding a spear. The third one was a ways away, next to the exit of the room. Holding a crossbow in its hands.

‘Think status to look at your status screen and use what is available to you to defeat this room.’

‘Status’

Status

Name: Frenley
Race: Fey
Class: Acolyte of Seasons

Body: 2
Mind: 1
Soul 3

Equipment:
Effigy of Nature(1S): Allows the casting of soul spells
Elf Straight Sword(1B): A sword of speed
Season Coating(1S): Coats the weapon in seasonal magic
Season Bolt(1S): A bolt of seasonal magic

Runes:

Potions: 2 Health and 1 Magic

Reading the words in his mind, Fren could not help but chuckle. This all made sense now; he had read this kind of story before. He was trapped in the world of the tabletop game he got. He was even the character he made before going to bed. Looking at the effigy in his left hand, the voice spoke once more.

‘You can cast spells equal to the stat the spell is based on. In your case, you can cast three spells before needing to rest. You also have three potions to use while in combat and in the greater world. Health potions will heal your wound. Magic potions only replenish half your spells, rounded down. Meaning that you would only get one spell for now. Potions are replenished when you rest, and more can be gathered as you explore.’

As she explained, Fren took a step forward, aiming his left hand at the peasant with the crossbolt. The way the woman was explaining things felt a lot like a game. Fren thought of the spell he wanted to cast, causing the effigy to shake in his hands before a multi-colored bolt of magic came out of it and flew towards the peasant.

Sadly, the casting of his spell caused enough noise for the peasants to all look at him. His bolt sadly didn't find its target as one of the spear peasants got in the way. The bolt hits it straight in the chest. Causing it to fall back lifeless. A large wound on its chest, he noticed that the wound seemed to be both frozen and burning. But before he could analyze any more, a bolt hit his shoulder.

Pain assaulted his mind, closing his eyes as he screamed. This, of course, gave the spear peasant enough time to pierce Fren’s leg. Another wave of pain assaulted his mind. He forced his eyes wide open, and he grabbed the wooden body of the spear and pulled it off him. Easily beating the peasant in strength. Frenley stood up and took a step to the right.

He could see the crossbow man at the end, getting ready for another attack. But before he could deal with him, the spearman had to go. Fren looks at the spearman as he prepares another attack. Like before, he easily pushes the spear to the side, slashing the peasant’s neck wide open. Blood spilled and painted both of them. Using the man as a shield, Fren grabs its collar and moves towards the crossbow man. Once, he felt the impact of the crossbow bolt on the dead spearman's body. He threw it to the side.

Aiming his left hand at the crossbowman, he cast a seasonal bolt once more. This time with nothing in the way. The magic hit true, blowing up the man’s head like a watermelon. Its brain is scattered across the room, its body falling like a puppet with no strings. Fren frantically reaches for the pouch, pulling out two potions, one red and another blue. He drank both potions; the flavorless liquid worked its magic once it hit his stomach. His wounds heal, pushing the bolt that was embedded in his shoulder out.

A sigh left his wet lips as he rested his hands on his knees.

“Holy fucking shit..”

His breathing slowly calmed as his adrenaline subsided. After a few seconds, he finally took another step forward. Trying not to look at the splatter brain and blood of the crosbowman as he went past it. He continued to walk the long corridors of the dungeon in silence. Till he reached a small room with no enemies. What lay in front of him was but a shard of light, soft and calm. Floating in place.

‘This is a resting spot, touch it and let your mind wander. You will wake up in top shape and everything replenished. But nothing more than a second would have passed.’

“Convenient”

He did as he was told, sitting next to the shard of light and touching it. He felt like the area around him had become calm, a soft song brushing against his skin, but he could not make out the lyrics. Frenley stayed looking at the light for a while as he spoke to no one but himself.

“Man, this fucking insane.. I am in some shitty dungeon with a hot milf voice in my head. Killing people like it was nothing. It sucks, I will never get back home.. Never got to finish that anime.”

He said with melancholy as his eyes grew heavy and he fell asleep. But the next second, he woke up. Again in the dungeon. The shard of light floating above him. He felt like a new man as he stood up, breathing in the shitty air of the dungeon as he started to move once more. Thankfully, he didn't have to move much until he found the next room. This one was empty. So he entered the room with no care in the world. But once he did, the room shook. The exit and entrance were close by, maddenning fire. This read boss room fight.

From the ground, in the center of the room, something started to grow. Not a plant, but a hand. Then the finger blowsom into more hands. Then more hands. More and More hands. What stood in front of him was a beast of hands. He could not even describe it. Muscles tense and relax as the beast turns to face him. Then, its hands spread open, revealing a large mouth, sharp rows of teeth, and a disgusting tongue, greeted Frenley.

The man swallowed a mouthful of saliva as the beast stood on its four legs, which were also made of hands. Arms made of hands grew from its sides.

“Okay, this is a bit different from the peasant!”

‘You got this, sugar.’

“Now it's not the time to be a sexy southern milf!”

Fren dodged to the side as he evaded the beast's reckless charge. Its body crashed onto a nearby wall, causing pieces of rock to fall from the ceiling. Fren dodged the rocks as best as he could, but the beast charged towards him with no downtime. This time, he was not able to fully dodge. His leg got nicked by the beast. Bending in a weird way as blood scape him. His bone was poking through the muscle and skin. Fren drank his healing potion right as the beast crashed into another wall.

As his wounds heal, Fren aims his left hand at the beast and shoots two bolts of season magic at it. Both shots hit the large beast. But did almost no damage. Leaving behind but a simple frozen and burning wound. Fren stood up as his leg fully healed, ready to dodge the beast's next charge. He sadly didn't have the magic reserves to fully kill this time from a distance. As the beast turns to face him, Fren uses his other spell.

Coating his sword in glowing multi-colored lights. He dodges the beast attack once more. Rushing towards it once it crashes against the wall. Dodging the falling rocks as he drank his magic potion. Fren arrived next to the beast as it started to turn around. He slashes his magic-infused sword on its side. Leaving behind a pretty disgusting wound that was both frozen and burning. Neither element was messing with the other.

The beast, now fully looking at Fren, throws a punch at the Fey. Fren dodges out of the way, but the beast didn't stop. Another attack came and hit him on the side. Pain assaulted his mind as his bones broke and organs were wounded. He tries to step away from the beast, his hand reaching for the pouch and his last healing potion. But the beast sensed what he was about to do. Crash its four hand legs onto the ground. Shaking it and causing Fren fingers to miss the pouch.

“Shit-”

Was the last thing he said before a fist crashed into his face. Breaking his nose and shattering his skull as his head hit the ground. Then pure darkness. Before cold air enters his nose, Fren sits up in his bed. Sweating like he ran a marathon. His breath was rough and uneven as his heart beat echoed in his ear. His alarm rang as he looked around. His eyes were taking in his room.

“What the fuck?.. Am I alive? I'm on Earth?”

Like that, Fren's first night as a dreamer ended.