Marvel: The DnD Game Master in the Shadows

Three peculiar-looking men, accompanied by a lone woman, strolled along a dirt-paved road that appeared to lead to nowhere in particular. Dressed in robes of varying colors, these travelers carried no visible goods or supplies, an oddity that surely raised eyebrows among the locals in this remote region.

One of the men assumed the role of their leader, a middle-aged figure with a distinct ponytail and an unsettling intensity in his gaze. His stern countenance had the potential to unsettle anyone who dared to meet his gaze for too long. With a cautious eye, he scanned their bleak surroundings, attempting to discern the nature of this desolate place.

The environment that enveloped them seemed lifeless and grim. The grass showed clear signs of decay, and fallen trees lay strewn about, their rotting trunks bearing witness to the corruption that had taken hold. There was an eerie absence of wildlife; no birds sang their songs, and no insects buzzed about. It was as if the very land itself had succumbed to some sinister influence.

Their journey down this desolate road was long, but as late afternoon descended upon them, they finally reached their destination. A village materialized amidst this cursed landscape, but oddly enough, the decay seemed to halt just at the outskirts of the settlement. Beyond that invisible boundary, the land teemed with vitality.

Within the village, children frolicked in the streets, engaging in spirited games of hide and seek. Carpenters toiled diligently, crafting new pieces of furniture, while the resounding clang of blacksmiths at work echoed in the distance.

Upon entering the village, the group immediately attracted the attention of its inhabitants. Some greeted them warmly, radiating friendliness, while others simply observed them with curiosity. A few chose to steer clear of their path, perhaps wary of these enigmatic newcomers.

The group came to an abrupt halt right in the heart of the village. The leader's gaze swept around, his brow furrowing in concentration. And then, unexpectedly, he shut his eyes, seemingly engrossed in an attempt to 'sense' something intangible.

"Caught anything?" questioned the sole woman among them, her voice slicing through the silence.

"Not yet. It concealed itself quite adeptly," responded the leader.

“I have a bad feeling about this…”  frowned one of the men, his features cast in a thoughtful shadow. His eyes fixated on the village's distant edge, where vitality stubbornly clung to the fringes of decay.

“A cleric is said to live here.” chimed in another man, his features hinting at his Asian heritage. “Explains the lack of corruption.”

"Or it could be an elaborate ruse," the leader mused aloud. "We should spread out, ask questions to the locals. Wong, you—"

But before he could proceed, a figure draped in a verdant cloak approached them. Traces of blood marred the fabric, and a quiver of arrows rested against the figure's back, signaling a hunter's vocation. A curious choice for this area, considering that decay had voraciously consumed the surrounding wilderness.

“Can I help ye?”  the figure inquired casually, hands finding their place on hips.  “Pardon fer the looks. We don’t usually get visitors around here.”

"Ah, yes," cleared the leader's throat, a visible sign of his sudden awareness. "We are mercenaries from Masters of the Mystic Arts, employed by the baron. We were hoping you could direct us to the dwelling of the village elder and the cleric, if you would be so kind."

“Old Ronald lives that way, last house te the left.” gestured the hunter, his arm extended towards the eastern direction. “As fer the cleric, what business does the baron have on him?”

"We simply wish to pose a few inquiries," the leader offered a congenial smile.

A thoughtful hum emanated from the hunter, his gaze sweeping across the group, evaluating their peculiar attire. “He lives next door to old Ronald. Here, I’ll guide ye there.”

Caught off guard by the hunter's abrupt gesture, the group exchanged glances, the decision already made for them. With no other recourse, they trailed behind the hunter's retreating form, compelled to follow his lead.

“What are ye names again?” the hunter initiated conversation. “Ye lot don’t come from around here do ye?”

“Yes, we are not from this kingdom. Where we are from is far away from here.” the leader replied. "I am Kaecilius, and these are my companions: Wong, Minoru, and Drumm."

“Strange name ye have.” the hunter mused, a hint of curiosity in his tone. “Name’s Jordan, local hunter. Though there isn't much game here.”

“The decay.” Kaecilius nodded.

“Yeah… thankfully the cleric’s here, we’re quite protective towards him, ye see? So don’t try to mess around.”

Kaecilius offered a reassuring smile. "Rest assured, as I mentioned earlier, our intent is solely to pose a few questions."

The hunter simply hummed, not considering the wait before the group's arrival at the village elder's door to be a waste of time. A knock echoed, the anticipation lingering briefly until the door creaked open, revealing the village elder standing there, a mix of curiosity and confusion etched onto his aged features.

"Can I help ye?" the village elder inquired, his appearance aligning with that of any elderly man—gray hair, stooped back, and loose skin.

"'Lo old man, these mercs are looking for ye," the hunter spoke up, a nod towards the group. "The baron sent them."

"The baron, eh?" The village elder's raised brow mirrored his skepticism. "’Bout time that rotund lord of ours sent someone 'ere."

“Could we… talk a bit?” Kaecilius asked. “We need some information regarding how this place came to be like this.”

"Alright. Come in, come in," the old man waved his hand dismissively, granting them entry. "Thank ye, Jordan, ye can leave now."

The hunter grunted his compliance, fading into the background as the group crossed the threshold into the elder's abode. The space inside was generous, though a home of this magnitude was excessive for solitary occupancy.

"Feel free to take a seat anywhere," the old man offered, his voice holding a note of resignation. "Space is abundant here, even though it's quieter than it used to be."

"Thank you, Master Ronald," Kaecilius acknowledged respectfully.

"Just Ronald will do," the old man grumbled. "So, what inquiries have brought ye to my doorstep?"

“How long since the decay has spread?” Wong spoke out, straight to the point. “It looks like it has been going on for a long time.”

“Oh, not at all.” the elder said. “It started around 10 months ago. It starts with the wild game around, whenever Jordan was out hunting he always found rotten carcasses of the animals. And then the plants and grass started to rot, and then the ground can’t be used to grow no more.”

"So swift?" Drumm's brows knitted in thought. "How did your village endure then?"

“The cleric.” the old man simply said. “That man helped us a lot. He stopped the decay to touch our homes. Otherwise, we would already be dead.”

"And when did this cleric come to your village? Or is he native here?" Minoru queried.

“He arrived before the decay.” the old man answered. “A kind man. Whenever someone’s sick, which happens a lot lately, we always visit him and it will always be cured, no matter what the disease. Young Daniel’s finger was cut off the other day, and the cleric even healed that.”

"What?" Kaecilius exclaimed. "Ronald, pardon me, but restoring limbs to such extent typically requires the expertise of a seasoned druid or skilled cleric. Do you happen to know this cleric's name?"

“He never tells.” Ronald shook his head. “Normally we’ll be suspicious of him, but he’s helped us a lot.”

“I see…” Kaecilius mused. He stood, his attention drawn to a particular object—a paper affixed to the wall. Upon it rested a black-hued magic circle; the intricate pattern eluded his recognition, yet the sense of suspicion it invoked was undeniable.

"Ronald," Kaecilius beckoned, gesturing toward the enigmatic paper. "Who presented you with this?"

“Ah that? The cleric gave me that.” Ronald said. “I have trouble sleeping lately, and he gave me that to cure it. It works like a charm.”

“Works like a charm indeed…” Kaecilius noted, glancing toward his comrades. Their shared realization propelled them into comprehension of their next course of action.

“So, you think you can cleanse this land?” Ronald questioned. “The cleric can’t even do it, but ye lot don't look like you come from around here, some ancient knowledge must ye have.”

"May we meet this... Cleric?" Drumm requested.

“Sure, he’s right next door, I’ll guide ye if ye want.”

“Ah, that won’t be necessary.” Kaecilius said. “Thank you, for your hospitality, Ronald, truly.”

Ronald waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it, just solve this big problem, will ye?”

Kaecillius nodded. “We will.”

"Well then..." a voice resounded, materializing a boy at the room's far end, accompanied by a bald woman. "Considering the information, what deductions can you draw from this?"

Stepping forward, the bald woman, known as The Ancient One, fixed her gaze upon Ronald, then shifted her attention back to the group.

"It's challenging to ascertain, Master," Minoru spoke with deference. "However, based on the details, the cleric raises suspicions. The ability to regenerate limbs is conspicuous even in larger settlements, but the paper portrayed as a 'sleeping charm,' by Ronald, is unquestionably the most dubious item."

"It's a demon," Kaecilius proclaimed calmly. "Likely N'astirh."

The Ancient One's brow arched. "What has led you to that conclusion, Kaecilius?"

"The demon's expertise lies in decay and corruption. Its viral offspring facilitate the absorption of energy from unwilling hosts, channeled to its primary form. The demon's shapeshifting capabilities could facilitate infiltration using the guise of a 'Cleric,' affording it sanctuary within the village. The perpetual decay doesn’t touch here because it emanates from him; he controls its scope, and purposely left out the village to gain some plus points from the villagers. Thus, the villagers unwittingly safeguard and revere him."

"And the cleric's healing powers?" The Ancient One prompted.

"The demon wields black magic as well. The healing may well be deception; instead of curing, it replaces the afflicted, reversing loss of limbs. The ultimate objective is to progressively taint the village, a puppet wall for foreigners to face first."

"Why not merely consume them all?" Wong interjected.

"That eludes me," Kaecilius admitted.

“Good deduction.” The Ancient One nodded. “Very well, you can continue to study the case outside of this world, and when you are ready, you can talk to me again.”

The group promptly rose and bowed to the woman. "Thank you, master," they conveyed their gratitude.

Then, their vision faded into blackness.

===DnDnD===

Jason's sight returned, his surroundings transforming into the makeshift library the sorcerers had provided. However, instead of books and papers before him, there lay an assortment of food and drinks. Presently, just before delving into the 'study case' world requested by the Ancient One, Jason was indulging in both culinary and beverage delights, even imbibing alcoholic concoctions.

The reason? To lend genuine flavor to the food within his world. He had realized long ago that the realism of his realm depended on his familiarity with sensory perceptions—how things should feel, appear, sound, and taste. Though the sense of taste had been a late addition to this list, he had come to appreciate it. The disparity between the fare he consumed within his world and that which existed outside it had not escaped his notice, that is why he realized it quite late.

Sighing at the sight, he found himself pleasantly satiated; a continuous feast of medieval cuisine wasn't always the most pleasant experience. Abruptly, a knock echoed from the room's entrance. It was the Ancient One, whom he had recently accompanied into the 'simulation world,' a realm often utilized by masters and disciples to analyze scenarios involving interdimensional entities.

"Somebody is seeking you," the ancient one stated simply.

"Is it them?" Jason inquired nonchalantly.

"Yes," the Ancient One replied. "Remember, Jason, exercise restraint when bestowing your gifts upon the players, and do not go overboard in recruiting new ones."

"I remember, you've always emphasized that," Jason acknowledged with a flicker of his eyes, before passing the bald woman and proceeding toward the front entrance.