Game Master in Another World

We were escorted through the slick, rain-swept streets to the local barracks by a couple of ordinary guards. They clearly had no idea who we were; an escort of only two men for a confessed arsonist and murderer seemed laughably light.

The entrance to the jail was an inconspicuous iron-bound side door leading underground. The narrow stone stairs and subsequent hallway were damp and dark, smelling strongly of mildew and old sweat, before opening out into a dimly lit guardroom. An elderly guard sat behind a battered wooden desk, squinting at a worn book by the light of a single flickering lantern.

“Another rabble-rouser, eh?” he grunted, not bothering to look up.

“Nah. Potential arson and murder, this one,” one of our escorts responded casually.

“In what order, I wonder?” the elderly guard replied with a dry, raspy chuckle.

They led us past a row of iron-barred cells to a solitary holding room at the end of the hall. It was a small, miserable stone box devoid of any furniture, featuring nothing but a rusted drain in the centre of the floor. There weren’t even any windows to judge the passing of the night.

The younger guard shoved us inside roughly and unshackled our arms. The heavy iron door slammed shut behind us, the deadbolt echoing with a loud, metallic clank as he walked off without another word.

Juliana, however, seemed completely unconcerned by our incarceration. With a gentle wave of her hand, she murmured a quick druidic incantation. Thick, moss-covered vines rapidly sprouted from the damp cracks in the stone floor, weaving themselves together into a surprisingly plush, green mattress.

Without a second thought, she lay down on her conjured bed, closed her eyes, and promptly fell fast asleep.

We awoke in the continuing gloom to the sight of a confused guard peering through the iron bars of the door.

“Hey, where did you get that bed from?” he demanded.

“Why, I made it, of course,” Juliana replied smoothly, stifling a yawn.

“I don’t believe you. I reckon you smuggled in something.”

The guard threw the heavy bolt, the iron door groaning as he stepped into the cramped room.

“I’ll have to strip-search you now. Get undressed.”

Unperturbed, Juliana slipped off her simple linen nightshirt—the very same one she had flown out of our inn window wearing at two in the morning—and stood completely naked in front of the guard. He walked a slow circle around her, ostensibly looking for concealed contraband, before crouching down to inspect the thick, living vines of the bed.

“Are you a magic-user?” he finally asked, his tone shifting from authoritative to wary.

“Yes, I can use a little magic, I suppose,” Juliana responded with a serene, unblinking smile.

Juliana’s complete lack of concern about her nudity was something I honestly admired. It took a staggering amount of confidence—or perhaps just the primal, unashamed mindset of a max-level Druid—to behave this way in a damp cell. It certainly had the effect of completely derailing the guard's attempted power trip.

“Right. You may be in luck for some clemency, then, if you can prove yourself useful to the Magic Corps,” he muttered, suddenly looking uncomfortable as he averted his eyes. “You can get dressed again. If you try anything more, though, I will be forced to gag and bind you. So please, behave.”

The guard backed out of the cell quickly, locking the door securely behind him. Juliana calmly slipped her nightshirt back on and climbed right back into our conjured bed.

Eventually, we were awoken again. A pious-looking man wearing fine robes stood next to the guard outside the cell.

“Is this her? The magic-user?” he asked, his nose slightly crinkled in distaste.

“Yes, she made that bed over there,” the guard responded, pointing through the bars at us.

“Very well. Let me in. I would like a closer look,” the robed man said.

The guard opened the door, and the man walked up to us, giving us a stern, appraising look. “Get off your bed. I need to inspect it.”

Juliana happily obliged, standing to the side while continuing to smile her serene, unblinking smile.

The robed man prodded the thick vines with the butt of his wooden staff. He then cast a quick incantation, producing a small flame that licked against the foliage, singeing it slightly.

“What is the name of this spell?” he demanded.

“I don’t really know. I just use it,” Juliana responded cheerfully.

“How often can you cast it?” he pressed, narrowing his eyes.

“Maybe twenty times in a row, I’d guess,” Juliana replied.

“Great. With a structural spell like that, I think you will fit in well with the magical defence of the city. I am authorised to make you an offer,” the robed man said with an overblown air of importance.

He produced a small roll of parchment and a quill from his robes. “Can you read?”

Juliana nodded.

“Good. I just need you to sign here. If you do, you will be immediately released.”

I figured I should probably correct him, but my inner Game Master was curious about what kind of terrible deal they would offer an ‘ordinary’ magic-user sitting in jail. So, I seized control of Juliana's vocal cords and played along.

I took the parchment and began to read.

You offer your eternal allegiance to Freyton City, and will be granted a stay of your punishment for the duration of the current conflict. After the event has been dealt with, you will be incarcerated again pending trial. Your actions during the event may be used to reduce your eventual sentence.

After your release, you will be seconded to the Magic Corps for the rest of your life, or until you are dismissed due to health reasons.

Any attempt to escape will be met with immediate execution, and any disobeying of orders will also be met with immediate execution.

I, _______, hereby understand these terms and conditions and agree to all of them. Signed: ________

The terms seemed incredibly extreme, essentially amounting to magical slavery, but if you were an ordinary peasant in jail for a major crime, I guessed you would have little choice but to sign.

I figured now was the time to fill him in.

“I’m sorry, but we cannot sign this, as we already have a contract for the defence of the city,” I said politely, dropping Juliana's cheerful cadence entirely for my own flat, pragmatic tone.

Our sudden shift in voice and demeanour made the robed man do a double-take.

“I’m afraid your crimes will have overwritten any prior agreements you may have had with the Magic Corps,” he scoffed, recovering his arrogance. “So this is the best you are going to get.”

“Well, we haven’t actually been found guilty of anything yet, so I imagine our original contract is still in play.”

The robed man sighed heavily. “This offer is incredibly generous for someone of your standing. You should take it and be grateful that you even have this option.”

I smiled, already picturing the horrific dressing-down this man was going to receive. “Fine. I will consider signing it, but only if you go and let Archibald from the Knights know that I, Juliana, am in this cell. He has likely been looking for me, as I am quite the fugitive.”

The robed man smiled smugly. “I shall get him to bring this very form back. I’m sure he will be delighted that a man like myself has found his quarry.”

The robed man and the guard left, locking the heavy iron door once again before walking away down the hall. I sat back down on the vines, considering how much of a pity it was that I wouldn't be able to witness the absolute panic on that recruiter's face when he finally found Archibald.

After about an hour had passed, a familiar face appeared outside the iron bars. It was Archibald, looking deeply stressed and uncharacteristically furious.

“Unlock this door immediately,” Archibald commanded the elderly guard. “Whatever crimes she may have committed, her sentence has been commuted forthwith by direct order of Lady Evelyn.”

The guard paled and quickly fumbled with the heavy keys to unlock the door.

“I’m so sorry, Lady Juliana, that I wasn’t here sooner,” Archibald said, stepping into the cell with a deep bow. “I shall see to it that these men are suitably punished for their transgressions.”

Juliana smiled kindly. “No, please don’t. These men were simply following their orders to the letter, and they did not mistreat me in the slightest.”

Archibald looked conflicted but nodded. “Very well. If that is what you wish. But please, I beg you, do not hold any grudges against the city for this indignity.”

“I wouldn’t dream of holding a grudge against the city. Have no fear, I will continue to do my best to protect it in its hour of need,” Juliana responded serenely.

We finally exited the damp dungeon, stepping out into the bright midday light. The sudden glare blinded us for a moment. As our vision cleared, we saw Sebastian, Toby, and the pompous robed man from earlier standing near the entrance.

The recruiter looked absolutely terrified. He immediately dropped into a deep, grovelling bow. “I am so sorry, Lady Juliana, for the disrespect I showed you earlier. Please forgive me.”

“I bear no ill will toward you, sir, for I came to no harm,” Juliana beamed.

I certainly wouldn't have been so lenient myself—the man had literally tried to press-gang us into magical slavery—but if Juliana was content to let it slide, so was I. Let the sheer embarrassment be his punishment.

Toby broke away from the group and ran up to hug us tightly. “I’m so glad you’re safe! After we found the rubble of the tavern this morning, I thought the worst had happened.”

Juliana patted his head gently. “I’m sorry to worry you so, Toby, but a little fire like that won’t hurt me.”

“I think we should get you back to the inn and into some proper clothing,” Sebastian suggested, politely averting his eyes from our wrinkled nightshirt.

“Anything but that dress,” Juliana said, her tone suddenly shifting. Her serene, unwavering smile briefly dropped into a look of genuine distaste.

“Good news on that front,” Sebastian replied with an amused smile. “Your original clothing has been repaired and is waiting for you back at your room.”

Immediately, Juliana perked up, her radiant smile returning in full force. The thought of finally being back in our comfortable, familiar adventuring gear was the best news we had heard all day.

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