STORY: Kendra - Lv 00, Ch 01

Kendra - Chapter 01
(c) 2017 by Shadowriter (that's right, I wrote something this year!)
http://ShadowRx.DeviantArt.com
https://www.patreon.com/ShadowRx

CONTENT WARNING: I don't need to give you content warnings, if you're in my gallery and bookshelf you have a pretty good idea what to expect. ;p

--- LEVEL: 00 ---

She was really starting to hate mirrors. But in truth she wasn't sure whether it was the reflection or the tape measure that disgusted her more. "Happy fucking birthday, pig.", she said to the short, somewhat chubby girl staring back at her. '18 years old and I look exactly the same as I did at 15... maybe a little fatter, if that's even possible.', she thought shaking her head. Kendra screamed in frustration as she threw the tape on her dresser... she didn't even bother writing the numbers, they were the same as last year (with yet another inch on her waist!).

"Why!?", she bellowed to the universe as she slammed her bedroom door and got into the shower. Why couldn't she be more like her characters? She was an Amazonian Warrior Goddess trapped in the body of a Dwarven Couch-Potato!

She couldn't understand it. She watched her intake vigorously, taking in only half the recommended calories; she ran 2-3 miles twice a week; she had even tried more extreme measures and nothing worked.

"Kendra...? What the fuck?!", she heard half-conscious whining from down the hall as she was undressing, "you know daddy needs his sleep after working graveyards at the warehouse!"

"Sorry, Papa.", she shouted back, unable to stop from chuckling a little at accidentally waking him.

Unlike her father, Kendra's accent was barely noticeable; she was a third generation Indian-American, but didn't grow up in a tight Indian community, so she never picked up his thick British-Indian vocal patterns. Probably a good thing, as it was one less thing she got teased for growing up; not that Scott Willoughby didn't try... cost him a trip to the ER and her a week suspension. Later on, when her father gently tried to scold her with, "Kendra, you know you aren't supposed to get into fights at school..."; she promptly retorted, "but Papa, its not a fight if its over in one punch", and an eight year old smile that evaporated what little anger he felt. He had a hard time believing its been 10 years already.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart, we'll do something tonight when you get back from school."

"I thought you worked at the store tonight", she replied.

"Are you kidding? I told them it was a family emergency, I wouldn't miss your 18th birthday... my little girl's all grown up."

'If only', she thought to herself as she pulled the curtain closed and started the water.

Her father worked two jobs to support them ever since... she wished she could remember her mother, she was so young when it happened and now she can't even recall her face. Did she struggle with her figure too, Kendra wondered.

"Why don't we have any pictures of mother, P'pa?", she asked as she turned off the water. There was no answer, he must have fallen back asleep; she would have to ask him again later.

 . . . 

School was, well, school... she didn't like or hate it, though she felt quite awkward around most of her peers. She both loved and hated gym; loved that she was pretty good at it, hated the way her body looked as her belly jiggled and the other kids stared. Still, she had a bit of a reputation as someone you did not piss off, so no one dared tease her about it. She had gotten smarter since elementary... instead of getting caught on campus, she'd wait and catch them alone after school. It's been almost two years since anyone was dumb enough to try her, a fact she was quite proud of.

Kendra couldn't quite figure out which was more boring, English or Math. Perhaps it was the fact that they required both for 12 years but only taught new material for 3 of them. Perhaps it was her teachers this year, both of them older and way too serious; she actually missed her kooky math teacher from the year before. He was both odd and off-putting until you got to know him, but he had an interesting way of problem solving and would engage the whole class. The possibly eighty year old Mrs. Olguin, on the other hand, well... she couldn't get mad at you for napping in class when she did the same.

Or maybe, its the fact that she had both back to back right after gym, while her body still wanted to move.

Science classes were always interesting, but that would have to wait till after lunch; for the next hour she'd have to sit through Electronics. Why did she take electronics? Well, with late registration the only electives open were that or Drama... and while she loves being dramatic, the idea of being on stage in front of everyone and looking like she did now- in third grade her school did Charlotte's Web, and she got to be the spider... if they did that in High School, she was pretty sure she'd get the *other* role.  Anyway, that's enough drama for now, Kendra thought, as she turned her focus back to this stupid breadboard that wasn't working. She followed the lesson exactly, but she couldn't get power through the circuit... its like something was eating it. No other kid had that problem, but every time she connected a battery it was instantly dead. The professor couldn't figure it out either, so he just wrote "pass" in the gradebook.

Though lunch can be a terrible reminder of exactly how outcast one is, it never really phased her, she was a loner anyways and since joining the club she could usually find at least one of her teammates to eat with. That is when they weren't hiding out in some other building or classroom to avoid bullies; of course that's been happening less and less since she joined them- Sheila the Barbarian would never let a squishy mage face the hordes alone!

As usual, Kendra spent the first 10 minutes on her phone, looking up all the items on her tray... then ate about half of them and let her fellow party members pick at the rest.

Its funny, she didn't really get into role playing at first, but after watching a few sessions she went ahead and made a character. It wasn't the best day to join, frankly, as all the other players had been seriously pissing off Mark, the DM, for the past couple of sessions. The group was already above level 10, so he had her start there; she read the book carefully and thus made "Sheila the Barbarian!" ( the ! is on her sheet, its officially part of her name ;p )

Tired of the party going off the rails, Mark threw a Cave Troll at them, which not only regenerated, but had been blessed by the dark god of the abyss with resistance to all forms of magic. The party was all casters with pretty good DPR, and Mark even expected the new girl to roll a cleric, something the others badly needed. So when she handed him her completed character sheet after he'd already introduced her as arriving just as the fight began, he was quite surprised, but didn't think it would affect the outcome.

Mark was actually kind of annoyed that she didn't roll what he asked her to, but whatever, the group is about to wipe anyway. This wasn't his first TPK, in fact he was kind of notorious for it, but as the only Dungeon Master on campus, he could do whatever he wanted and still have plenty of players; where else were these nerds gonna go, the football field?

Having rolled initiative with advantage, Sheila went just before the troll. On her first turn she stunned it. On her second she knocked it prone and finished it; the others started on in disbelief, not least of which being Mark. He tried to argue that it didn't happen, but she pointed out her math and her characters abilities and feats. Ugh, a rule-monger, he thought, alright... I can work with that.

"Well, as the troll dies he spasms on the ground, his club knocking loose a keystone in the archway supporting the cavern", he quickly recovered.

"Oh, not again", Chuck said, knowing where this was going.

"Rocks fall-"

"Damn it!", Chris screams.

"everyone"

"What the HELL, Mark? Crushing damage isn't even in the rules anymore", Tim shouts as he throws down his pencil.

"die-"

"Not so fast", Kendra announces, "Sheila braces the collapsing roof allowing the others time to escape!"

"She can't do that!", Mark objects.

Kendra wondered for a second if she had overstepped. But no, like Tim said, there is no insta-kill crushing damage, the DM was clearly writing his own rules. Looking around the table she knew she needed to act, all the other players were ready to quit. "Prove to me why she can't."

"Because... its- look, I'm the DM, she can't cause I said so", Mark stammers out, feeling emboldened by his own troll logic.

"Oh. Really.", Kendra said as she stalked closer to him, murder in her eyes. She didn't make Sheila to have some asshole tell her she failed and died on her very first adventure.

"If you don't like it you can-", Mark suddenly felt the need to swallow mid sentence.

"I. Can. What. Mark?", she began reaching for his shirt as he backed into the wall.

"Roll... uhm, roll a natural 20 on a strength save with dis-", he felt her eyes burrow into him and paused to correct himself. "...er, I mean, with advantage", he weakly finished.

"Okay!", Kendra said with entirely too much enthusiasm. She knew the odds were still terrible, but there was a chance. And as fate would have it, Sheila not only saved the party, but she managed to wedge the ceiling back into place and walk out unscathed. (though she did have to remind him that she also crits on a natural 19)

Thus the legend of Sheila was born... and continued until the end of the semester, when Mark started a new campaign. Kendra didn't like leaving her first character behind, but accepted rolling a new hero as part of the game.

So began "Captain Lucinda Killjoy", a veteran human fighter with no sense of humor; "Grace, the Amazing", a Psion who specialized in Psychosomatry- able to transform her own body at will; "Lilandra le Morrigan", a Tiefling Warlock who by the end of the campaign had forced a pact with every demon in the nine hells to grant her their infernal might; and her current character "Helga Hammerfist", a Dwarven/Giant Monk with a chip on her shoulder the size of the Lonely Mountain, and a right cross to match it... especially if its a comment about her height.

Kendra loved every one of them, and wished she could be like them... more than anything.

The bell rang signalling the end of lunch, and Kendra had no idea what Tim had been saying while she was daydreaming about past games. Anyway, she would see him after school for D&D Club. Maybe this school wasn't so bad, she recently learned that it was one of the test schools for Wizard's pilot program (to sell more merchandise through public schools).

As she wandered the halls to Physics, she couldn't wait to play Helga again.

Class flew by as her thoughts kept wandering back to the game... she vaguely heard something about a quiz. Oh well, she wasn't worried, Kendra always tested well. She'd been giving a lot of thought to LARPing, what she'd seen of it on YouTube looked like fun.

"So, the Cat is... Ms Singh?", Mrs. Collins, Kendra's Physics teacher, suddenly inquired noticing her daze.

"I've no idea", she replied coming out of her stupor. In truth she didn't quite hear the question.

"And if you were paying attention, would you know then?", Mrs. Collins challenged with a playful smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Likely not", she confessed.

"Correct", the teacher laughed, chalking it up to luck, "until opened there would be no way to know for certain."

Just then the bell rang, marking time for the dreaded history exam. It wasn't that she didn't know the material, its that she knew the US History book was full of omissions (was that an oxymoron?) and half-truths. There was what she was expected to put in the blanks, and what she knew from documentaries she had watched on Netflix. The book expects her to say the A-Bomb ended WWII, not the looming Russian threat approaching from the Northwest, and certainly not that the bomb wasn't necessary at all and had absolutely no effect on the war or surrender; what's more, should she feel the need to mention the war being primarily against CIVILIAN TARGETS and population centers, it would likely result in another trip to the Dean's office. God forbid anyone mention the US Government and War-crimes in the same sentence. (The school considered themselves above Principals, therefore they had Deans... they may also have thought themselves above Principles, given their refusal to acknowledge the errors in the textbooks and desire to make problems go away without open debate.)

In the end, she gave them the answers THEY wanted, but she felt dirty as she handed in the test and left early for her next class.

Health class went quickly, though Kendra did pick up another few ideas for nutrition; clearly cutting calories wasn't doing a damned thing for her except making her moody. (er, more moody... downright crotchety heading fast toward surly with an option on ornery)

And, at last it was Club-time. Helga Hammerfist rides again!

NEXT: CHAPTER 02 >