The next morning, Dad and I picked up David around 9am, and we drove over to the house.  I had my cell phone with me, so I could call him for a pick up once we were done – and if he didn’t hear from us, he’d show up around 5:30pm, like yesterday.  We had sandwiches and soda, like before, and headed inside once he unlocked the door.  On the off chance it was relevant to whatever was in the purple trunk, I brought grandma Janet’s book, and the letter she wrote me, along with the two amulets and the two keys.

 

                Once we were inside, I headed to the living room to keep sorting out stuff.  David joined me a moment later, and I could tell he could tell I was dying to tell him what I’d found.

 

                “You going to spill it, or am I going to have to get you in a headlock?”

 

                “Nah.  I found out why dad was so upset about that book last night at the restaurant.  Apparently, there’s a lot of family history and my dad is of the opinion that grandma was crazy.  He was taken away by CAS when he was 12, and he was given to foster parents – Grandpa Moses and Grandma Claire.   Apparently she believed magic and fairies were real, and that she went to a fantasy world, and came back when she got stood up at the altar.  Dad didn’t want to have anything to do with her crazy, so he kept me away until I was old enough to know what was real and what wasn’t.”

 

                “That’s wild.  Did you ever open the book or the letter?”

 

                “No to the book – but I think I have the key – and yes to the letter.  I’ve got it here, if you want to read it.  There was some other stuff with it too – two amulets she calls ‘Adventure Tokens.’  How weird is that?”              

 

                “Pretty weird.  Sure, I’ll take a look at it.”  David took the note I handed him, and read it slowly. 

 

                “You know, on the surface this does sound kind of crazy, but I think you might be overlooking one thing, Jeff.  If those amulets do have strange properties, and her journal does tell you how to use them, then either they work – and you have proof she wasn’t crazy and maybe her magical land is real – or they don’t work and your dad was right and she was off her meds.  Either way, I’d read the journal first, then decide.”

 

                “Do you think there’s a chance it could be real?”  I asked.

 

                He laughed.  “I’d love to say yes – I really would.  It would be awesome, wouldn’t it?  To see a new world, with magic and stuff?  It would be like being in an RPG.   I guess I’m a pessimist, because I don’t think we could get that lucky.”

 

                “We!?” I joked.  “What makes you think the second amulet would be for you!”

 

                “I’m hurt!” he said, in mock outrage.  “Who else would you take with you?”

 

                “No one, I guess.”  I answered.  “I was just yanking your chain.”

 

                “That’s what I thought.  Hrmph.”

 

                “Hrmph back.”

 

                We stared at each other for a few minutes, and broke up laughing.  I reached for the big key, and went over to the large purple trunk.  “Want to see what’s inside it?”

 

                “Hell, yes!  Open it up!”  David came over, and peered over my shoulder to see inside.

 

                I took the key, and slid it into the lock, and gave it a turn to the right.  It turned a little stiffly – but seeing as how the lock probably hadn’t been used in years, I wasn’t surprised.  It clicked open, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.  I took the key out and put it back in my pocket, and then opened the lid.

 

                “The moment of truth?”  David asked.

 

                Inside the trunk, all I could see was a layer of oiled canvas.  It smelled musty.  “The moment of truth is underwhelming, unless there’s something cool underneath this canvas.”  I pulled at the canvas – and it seemed it was a bag of some kind, and god was it heavy!  Its contents jingled, and I pulled it out and set it on the coffee table.  It was tied with a simple drawstring – but David gave a holler, so I rushed back to see what was underneath it.

 

                “Wow, dude!  I think there was more to your grandma than anyone knew!”  David said.  He pointed, and inside the trunk, in a leather sheath was a sword, on a leather belt, with a matching dagger on the belt as well.  The buckle was tarnished silver, and the belt was studded with silver studs, also equally tarnished.  Next to the weapons were two pouches – the kind you’d see tied to someone’s belt at a renaissance fair, along with a small wooden coffer with a key taped to its top.  There was masking tape along the metal rim of the trunk’s edge, with a message written in pen… ‘Emergency fund’ it said. 

                               

                “Holy shit!  Are those real weapons?”  I asked out loud, pulling them out of the trunk.  They felt like they weighed a fair bit – at least 8 pounds with the sword, knife, and belt all together, maybe a bit more.  I drew the dagger out of the sheath, and looked at the blade.  It wasn’t pressed steel, that was for sure… It had an interesting water mark, and a strange symbol on the handle I took for a makers mark.  I was pretty sure this had been made by a smith and was a real weapon – not some industrial stamped wall hanger.  I handed the knife to David, and checked the sword too.  It looked very similar, and had the same makers mark.  I checked the edge with a piece of newspaper – and it was still razor sharp.  It was also coated in a light sheen of oil, and had flecks of rust starting to touch its blade.  It probably needed some TLC, but I didn’t know what to do.

 

                “I think they are, Jeff.  I think someone made these by hand.  The knife is pretty wicked.”  David looked like he was checking its balance, and weight.  “The handle is wrapped in leather, and it looks really authentic.”

 

                “Maybe we should put these away and see what’s in the big bag, the little pouches, and my trunk marked ‘Emergency Fund’ next?”  I  suggested, re-sheathing the short sword.  David put the knife away and we looked at the big bag.  Inside, was a jacket of soft cotton padding, about David’s size, with a leather belt – and underneath it an actual coat of what looked like a folded wool cloak, and a suit of chainmail.  Hand riveted chain mail armor!  I sat down on the couch, hard, and just stared.  Did grandma used to wear this stuff?  Dad never mentioned her being at Ren Faires.  Or did she actually wear it for its intended purpose? 

 

                “Do you think that’s real chainmail too, David?”

 

                David looked as surprised as I was.  “Yeah, I kind of do.”

 

                I sat for a few minutes, thinking, and then got up and looked inside the trunk again, pulling out the small wood and iron coffer, and the two pouches.  In the bottom of the trunk under that stuff was a set of metal arm guards – like bracers, but I couldn’t remember the actual name of them.  I grabbed them too, and set it all down on the table. 

 

                “More?”

 

                “I think this is the last of it.”  I replied.   I opened the first pouch, and out spilled three dozen coins, some the size of pennies, some the size of quarters, and some the size of half dollars.  There were gold, silver and copper coins – with strange faces on the coins and writing in a language I couldn’t understand.  There was more gold and silver than copper, and more silver than gold.  I had no idea how much they were worth, but it was obvious they were probably worth a lot.

 

                “Holy shit.”  David said quietly.

 

                I nodded, and opened the other little pouch.  Inside was a modern day ring box, with a gold ring inside that had unreadable letters written on the inside of the band.  The outside of the band was carved and sculpted to look like vines and ivy, and it was beautiful.  It looked like a ladies ring in size and style. Also inside the pouch was a cloak pin – a silver one with what looked like a wolf and raven on the ends of the pin.  It looked rather Celtic or Scottish, but I wasn’t sure of either.  I showed them both to David.

 

                Last, I removed the key from the tape on the coffer, and tried the key in the lock.  Unsurprisingly it opened, and I gasped at what I saw inside.  Gold.  Silver.  Jewels.  I was entranced – and had no idea what to do.  I just stared.

 

                David put the cloak pin down, and came to see what I was goggling about… and he stared too.

 

                “Holy shit, dude!  Your grandma was loaded!”

 

                “Loaded?  If that stuff is real, she was crazy loaded!  And she left it to me!  What do I do with it?”

 

                “Save it for a rainy day?”  David suggested.  “If that’s real – and it could be – there’s an easy way to test some of it.”

 

                “How so?”  I asked.

 

                “I heard that real pearls disintegrate when placed into vinegar – something about the acid eating the calcium on the pearl, which doesn’t happen to fake pearls.  We could try that.”

 

                “Where the hell did you hear that?”

 

                “A crime show – the detective was trying to prove the murder suspect knew some pearls were fake, and that’s how he found out – by testing the pearls to find out where the real ones were.”

 

                “Cool.  Okay, let’s try it.”

 

                We looked for a small white pearl, and grabbed a tiny one the size of a green pea, and went to the kitchen.  A few minutes later, and we were watching the pearl dissolve in some white vinegar.  I scooped what was left of the dissolving pearl out of the vinegar and washed it off in the sink. 

 

                “The pearls are real.”  I said, deadpan.

 

                “The gold and silver are probably real too.”  David replied.

 

                “What the fuck do I do with all that stuff?”

 

                “I dunno?  Put it in your closet until you figure it out?  Hide it?  I wouldn’t get rid of it.  The stuff inside would set you up for life.”

 

                “Yeah.  I guess it would.  I think I really need to read my grandma’s journal.”

 

                “Well, considering the situation, if you want to read your grandma’s journal, I can keep sorting the trash from the good stuff – and when you’re done you can help me finish up so we don’t have to come back here tomorrow.”

 

                “Thanks, David.”

 

                “Yeah, yeah.  Now let’s put this stuff away so it doesn’t distract us, and get back to work.  If we don’t get finished, your dad is going to be pretty annoyed.”

 

                “Yeah, that’s true too.”  I started packing everything away – the gems, the gold, the armor and weapons, the ring and cloak pin, and the heavy steel bracers.  It was a challenge getting everything back into the trunk, but it all fit, and for some reason I couldn’t identify, I relocked the chest and put the key back away.  It just felt safer that way.

 

                 I took the little key, and placed it into the hasp lock on the book, and gave it a turn, and the locked popped open pretty easily.  Putting the key away, I sat on the couch and opened the book.  Inside, the writing was in English – but it looked like it had been written by hand, with a fountain pen or a calligraphy pen instead of a ballpoint pen or something newer.  The writing had a look and flair that felt feminine, and was written in black ink.  I began to read.

 

 

What follows is a record of my time in the magical world of Mercia, in the realm of Ghaelorn. 

I have written this from memory, many years after the fact, and I am sure there are omissions

and errors, misremembering – but the warp and weft of the tale will remain unchanged.

 

                                In the summer of 1973, I met a strange woman in an antique shop called “Last Chance,” in Hershey,

Pennsylvania.  I was passing through on a road trip, and by whim, I stopped and looked in her antique

shop, while getting a drink to cool me down on a hot day.  She said her name was Eleanor Chance,

and she showed me around her shop for quite a while.  She had many really cool things – but most of

them were out of my price range.  She obviously wanted to make a sale, so she took me behind the

counter to show me “something special.” 

 

What she showed me was a small gold amulet – probably worth a fortune in gold – with a woman’s

head on one side, and a tome with an hourglass on it on the other side.  She called it “an adventure

token” and claimed it had special properties.  She said it could take me to another world, and teach me

amazing things, if only I listened to it.  She said it was blessed by the gods of luck and fate, and that

I would experience things no one on this Earth had ever seen, if I accepted it.

 

I laughed and thought she was a kook – I mean, who wouldn’t?  But she grew angry, and thrust the

amulet into my hand.  “Say the word ‘Status,’” she said, hissing in anger.  At first I tried to pull my

hand back from her – but her grip was like iron.  I was scared.  I said the word – and all of a sudden

I could see a transparent page of light in front of me, full of numbers and phrases I didn’t really

understand, but which had my name and description on it.  It also had an arrow, pointing into the

distance.  I was shocked, and lost my will to struggle, and she laughed.  “Now you see it.” She said.

“Follow the marker.  It will lead you to a door.  The amulet will open the way once – there and back

again.  You may be able to traverse the gate more than once, but doing so is dangerous, and may

harm you.  Also, you cannot sell your token, nor can it be stolen for long.  You must give it to

someone freely, or else it will exact a terrible price from you.”

 

“How is this possible?”  I asked.  “How do I make it go away?”   She told me to just imagine the page

of light going away, and it would… and she was right.  “Magic is real, my dear.  It’s just that most of

us don’t recognize it when we see it anymore.”

 

The next thing I knew, I was in my car – at least 60 miles away on I-76, heading home to Philadelphia.

I stopped the car, and tried to figure out what happened – and I couldn’t remember.  To be honest,

I was scared.  I was also wearing the amulet on a leather cord around my neck.  I took it off, and

put it in my purse and drove home.  It wasn’t until a few days later I tried seeing if it still worked.

 

               

                I looked up from the book, and took a breather.  My eyes felt strained – reading cursive was a lot harder than I expected.  Maybe I was too used to seeing computer screens?  “I think I figured out how to activate the amulets, David.”  I said, closing the book for now.  “I’m going to try it out.”

 

                “You mean, to see if your grandma was for real or not?”

 

                “Yeah, pretty much.”  I replied, pulling out one of the amulets.  I held it in my hand, and said “Status.”       

 

                I don’t really know what I expected – probably nothing – but what happened instead was a translucent screen, like a character sheet in a computer game popped up in front of my eyes.  It had my name, and a number of stats on it – like Strength, Agility, and so forth – and a number of things that were called Edges and Hindrances.  It was a bit confusing, but it seemed really cool.  I stared at it for maybe thirty seconds, and then called out to David.  “Can you see this?”

 

                “See what?”

 

                “I think I just pulled up my character sheet.  I’m looking at it right now.”

 

                “What the fuck!  Are you serious?  I can’t see anything.  It looks like you’re staring off into space.”  David got up and looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of what I was seeing, but he obviously failed. 

 

                I grabbed a blank piece of paper, and tried writing out what I saw…

 

Name: Jeffery Fowler	Sex: Male	Height: 6’ 0”
Race: Human	Age: 19	Weight: 185lbs
Advancements: 0   (Novice)
Attributes	Derived Stats	Skills
Strength   d6	Dodge: 5	Academics (Sm)                         d4
Agility     d6	Parry:   4	*Athletics (Str)                           d4
Vigor       d6	Move:  12 yards/18 yards run	Boating (Ag)                              d4
Smarts     d6	Charisma: +2	*Common Knowledge (Sm)      d4
Spirit       d6		Driving (Ag)                              d4
		Fighting (Ag)                             d4
Edges	Hindrances	*Notice (Sm)                             d4
- Charisma	- Overconfident	*Persuasion (Sp)                        d4
- Brave	- Heroic	Repair (Sm)                               d4
- Rich	- Mild Mannered	Shooting (Ag)                            d4
	- Quirk (Wants to have a real Adventure)	*Stealth (Ag)                             d4
	- Secret (Noble Bloodline – Scion of	Survival (Sm)                            d4
3 Edges or Stats Unspent	Clan Mac Tavish)
- You can exchange an edge or stat for		7 Skill picks spent
2 skill picks		6 Skill picks unspent
Equipment
Common Clothes	Cell Phone	“Adventure Token” x2
Wristwatch	2 Keys (Trunk, Journal)

               

                “There…  That’s what it says.”  I said, showing David.

 

                “It says you’re a noble.”  He replied, deadpanned. 

 

                “Yeah, I know.  I don’t have a clue about that.  It’s a freaking character sheet!  The amulets work!”  I couldn’t help it – I was excited.  Grandma wasn’t crazy!  Magic was real!  I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I got up and started pacing back and forth to try and burn off some of my nervous energy.

 

                “Can I try it?”

 

                “Sure.  I don’t know if it will work for you, though.”  I gave him one of the amulets, and he held it and said “Status.”

From the look on his face, I could tell it didn’t work.

 

                “What happened?”

 

                “It didn’t work.”  David said, frustrated. 

 

                I had an idea.  I touched the amulet he was holding.  “David, this amulet is for you.”  Oddly enough, I felt a tingle – and then nothing.  “Try it now.”

 

                “Status.  Whoa!”  David was looking around wildly, scanning something I couldn’t see. 

 

Now it worked for him, I thought.  I was right – Grandma was right.  You have to give them to someone for them to work. 

“It’s working, right?”

 

                “Yeah!  I can see my character sheet.  It says I have some stuff unselected.  Do you think anything will happen if I try to select something?”

 

                “Probably.  Maybe hold off on it until we know what it will do.  We might not be able to respec.”

 

                “Good point.  Did you want to see my character sheet too?”  David asked.

 

                “Yeah, if you want.  This is bloody amazing!”

 

                David grabbed some paper and a pen and started writing.  Shortly he came up with a character sheet similar to mine.

 

Name: David Wilson	Sex: Male	Height: 5’ 10”
Race: Human	Age: 19	Weight: 158lbs
Advancements: 0   (Novice)
Attributes	Derived Stats	Skills
Strength   d6	Dodge: 5	Academics (Sm)                         d4
Agility     d6	Parry:   4	*Athletics (Str)                           d4
Vigor       d6	Move:  12 yards/18 yards run	Boating (Ag)                              d4
Smarts     d6	Charisma: +2	*Common Knowledge (Sm)      d4
Spirit       d6		Driving (Ag)                              d4
		Fighting (Ag)                             d4
Edges	Hindrances	*Notice (Sm)                             d4
- Attractive	- Heroic	*Persuasion (Sp)                        d4
- Arcane Background	- Loyal	Repair (Sm)                               d4
- Strong Willed	- Mild Mannered	Shooting (Ag)                            d4
	- Stubborn	*Stealth (Ag)                             d4
	- Secret	Survival (Sm)                            d4
3 Edges or Stats Unspent	- Quirk
- You can exchange an edge or stat for		7 Skill picks spent
2 skill picks		7 Skill picks unspent
Equipment
Common Clothes	Cell Phone	“Adventure Token” x1
Wristwatch

 

                “Why is your secret not written down?  Did it show up?”  I asked.

 

                “Yeah – I just didn’t feel comfortable talking about it yet.  Same for the quirk.”  David replied.

 

                “Oh.  Okay.”  I said, coming back to the couch to sit down.  “You know, if you want to talk, I’m here for you, dude.”

 

                He smiled, a little sadly.  “I know.  I’m just not ready to deal with it yet, okay?”

 

                “Okay.”  I let the matter drop, for now, and changed the topic.  “What the hell do we do with these amulets?”

 

                “I’d like to find out what else they can do.” David said.

 

                “Grandma’s journal said they would lead to a portal, which would take us to a magical world called Mercia, to some realm called Ghaelorn.  Do you think it could be for real?”

 

                “I don’t see why not.  It brings up a magical representation of whoever is using it.”

 

                “I think I need to read more of her journal to figure out what to do next.  I don’t think I’ll be telling dad about this stuff.”

 

                “You think he might spaz?”

 

                “I KNOW he would spaz.  He’d probably try to take it all away from me ‘for my safety’ – and unless I was willing to move out and take my stuff with me, I’d have to put up with it.  It could lead to a massive family fight that I’d rather not deal with.”

 

                “Do we go looking for it?  I think we should, just to see if it really exists.”  David looked like he was getting as excited as I was.

 

                “Yeah, in time.  Grandma mentioned if I did follow in her footsteps to prepare really carefully, cause it would be dangerous.  If she was right about all this…” I said, motioning to the character sheets.  “…she might be right about that too.  I think the armor and weapons were hers – and if she had to travel armed, it means there was a darn good reason to be armed.”

 

                “True.”  David agreed.  “We’d need some decent camping gear at least, plus other supplies.  Weapons, food, water, medicinal supplies.  I guess your Emergency fund will have money covered.”

 

                “Yeah, if we’re not murdered for it on day 1.”  I laughed.  “I get the impression that we shouldn’t go flashing around that kind of money unless we’re prepared to defend it.”

 

                David nodded, and said “Status” again – and got that familiar glassy-eyed look. 

 

                “Whatcha doing?”  I asked.

 

                “Checking to see if there is a map feature on here, or some kind of HUD.” 

 

                “Good idea!”  I grabbed my amulet and tried the same.  My character sheet came up – and I tried saying “Map” instead.  The view changed from my character sheet to an overhead view that looked like it was showing Lebanon in the center – and off in the distance, 90 miles north west of Lebanon in Bucktail state park was a runic icon.  I touched it with my hand – and it reacted as if I touched it in my mind.  The icon expanded and said “Follow the token through the Portal.”  A map marker!  That must mean the map is tied to a current quest, right?  I said “Quests” and the image changed to a list of quest options…

 

• Read Grandma Janet’s Journal
• Follow the Map Marker to the Portal
• Optional (Give a friend the other Adventure token) – Completed!

 

I tried switching the quests to “Read Grandma’s Journal” and my map marker switched to where I had left grandma’s book. 

When I switched it to “Give a friend the other Adventure token” the map marker hovered over David’s head.”

 

                “This is bloody cool!”  I heard David say.

 

                “Yeah.”  I agreed.  “I could probably play with this for hours.”

 

                “We’d better not – we still have a ton of boxes to go through.”  David sighed.  He closed his menu – I could tell because he was suddenly focusing on me and the room again.  I dismissed mine too.

 

                “Yeah.  I really want to see what this can do, but I think we’d better wait until we know more.  I’m definitely not going to select anything until I know what it does.”  I said.

 

                “Good idea.  Like you said, we might not be able to respec.  As much as I hate to stop, we’d better get back to these boxes.”

 

                I sighed and nodded.  We still had a lot of work to do.  I put grandma’s journal away in my student backpack, with my amulet and keys, and got to work.

 

                As the hours passed, anyone watching could tell we were distracted, and not paying full attention, but we worked through the pile of assorted boxes one by one until close to four thirty.  Finally done, we tallied up what we’d found.  A box of old family photographs, including some of Grandma Janet when she was younger – even one of her in her armor and sword – and several of dad growing up, until the age of 12.  After that, there were only a few – maybe three or four of dad each year until he was 18 – and after that, there were none.  Grandma Claire had mailed the pictures to Grandma Janet.  I don’t think dad knew. 

 

                There were some other interesting knick-knacks that ended up in the thrift shop donation pile, including an old Sony walkman that still worked, with some cassette tapes, some VCR tapes, and a box of 8-tracks that might still be valuable on Ebay.

We also found a book on the care and maintenance of a sword, which I decided to keep, and Grandma’s Wiccan Book of Shadows, which I also decided to keep.  At least, David said that’s what it was called – I didn’t know much about Wicca.  It wasn’t written in English, as far as I could tell. 

 

                There was a lot of junk too – old, worn out clothes, old pictures and dishes, miscellaneous doodads and things that just got shoved in boxes.  The only other interesting thing we found was a box of squirrel figurines – some with clothes, some not.  Many of them looked rather lifelike, and on the off chance they were valuable like the Royal Doulton might be, I set them aside too.

 

                I looked around the room, seeing pretty much my Grandma’s whole life being divided into keep, toss and give away, and I felt ashamed, like we had reduced her life and dreams to a collection of stuff to dispose of.  I felt a bit ill, and got up to get some air.  It was done, but boy was I glad I wouldn’t have to do that again.

 

                I head the screen door open up and David come out.  “Is everything okay, Jeff?”

 

                “Yeah.  I just got a bit overwhelmed by all that’s happened today.  We’re basically tossing out three quarters of my grandma’s life.  It feels like I’m doing something wrong.  Like it’s disrespectful or something.  I just want today to be over, so we can decide what to do next.”

 

                “I understand,” he said, squeezing my shoulder.  “We won’t be able to do much for most of next week anyway.  We both have work.”

 

                I groaned.  David was right.  We’d be working all week.  “Maybe we can make plans for next weekend?  Or get together after work?”  I suggested.

 

                “Probably sooner.  I think you need to read more of the journal, and find out what happens next.”

 

                “Yeah, I guess so.  I’ll read it later tonight.”

 

                We went back inside, and tidied up, and called my dad.  We had a lot of stuff to take home – my chest of armor and weapons, the fancy purple mirror, and the family photos and box of squirrel figurines.  We started packing it up.

 

               

*              *              *

 

 

                When dad and I got home, I said hi to mom, and got cleaned up for dinner.  We had dropped David off like usual, and picked up some chicken, gravy and potato wedges for dinner.  I know I was distracted, but mom and dad didn’t really seem to notice, and after I was excused once dinner was over, I cleaned up the dishes, and went up to my room to read.  Mom and dad would probably be watching TV for a few hours, then would be heading to bed to get ready for work. 

 

                I pulled grandma Janet’s book out of my backpack, and unlocked it with the small key.  As I flipped through the pages, I quickly caught up to where I had stopped reading earlier…  I got comfortable, and began to read.