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Chasing My Fiancée Across A Fantasy World - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2025-07-28 17:24:48 +0000 UTC“Tricia!....Triciaaaaa!” John bellowed into the forest looking for his girl. “It’s not like her to go running off like this, something is very wrong.” He looked at his cell phone and saw what he expected to see, zero bars. Up here in the Appalachians there were still pockets where cell phone service did not reach. He thought hard as he broke camp and packed it all in his backpack.
He could take the trail down to the country road they had parked at and drive to where he got service, but that would take hours. If she was somewhere near, he didn’t want to possibly abandon her and get her more lost. Tricia was a country girl like he was a country boy, but she didn’t like the wilderness as much as he did. She was more interested that he had a pickup truck, rather than knowing he actually put it to good use.
If this snag continued, he feared for the future of his engagement. At first John was sure that being in the woods during a forecasted meteor shower would be the perfect time to propose. Tricia had told him that she was an old fashioned girl who wanted to wait till she got engaged before she had sex. He got it. The area they lived in was pretty conservative. His friends had told him that she was bad news, but when he looked in her eyes, their voices faded into the background while he fell for her.
The proposal could have gone a little better, he had expected some form of sexual relations the night previous, when he had proposed. He had spent three months' salary on a modest but tasteful engagement ring, something that represented the sweat of his brow, and ability to provide. His heart skipped a beat when she hesitated a bit longer than he would have liked to say yes. The hug and kiss he got was genuine. After looking at the ring under a flashlight, Tricia said. “That’s lovely John. Come on, let's get back in the tent, I’m getting eaten alive by mosquitos.” She then seemed to push away his hands in the tent that night, saying that she liked to make love in places where she could clean up. Damn it John, you should have proposed at Mom and Dad’s.
OK, plan. I’ll head up to the top of the ridge and whistle for her for at least an hour and see if I can get some cell phone coverage. If she’s not around by then, I’ll head back down the trail and call the cops.
The chilly morning included dense fog, so he could understand how she could get turned around. He still thought it odd for her to get lost going to the bathroom, the trail was only a short walk down wind. He was running through things in his mind when he found the torn panties, sandals, and flashlight. His mind drifted to the worst possible explanations for these items to be on the ground.
“Tricia!” He looked around frantically. He had to find her, he must find her. Dispensing with conserving his energy his walk became a trot. In his jacket, he had a small snub nose revolver, fully loaded. In his pack he had a box of .38 special ammunition. John prided himself for not being afraid of anyone or anything, so long as he was prepared. If anyone had touched Tricia, they were going to pay dearly.
The country boy trotted a little too fast and missed the fork in the trail because of the fog. Every few minutes he blew his emergency whistle he had on his coat and called her name. The forest was eerily quiet. “There should be a chorus of birdsong around this time of morning up here. Something is very wrong.”
After thirty minutes of uphill hiking he reached the ridgeline. Instead of more trees, rocks poked out of the dirt and there were some boulders he could scrabble up. He climbed up and set down his pack. Fog blanketed everything he could see, like the world didn’t want him to know where he was. He set a timer on his phone and every few minutes he blew his whistle in morse code S-O-S and called her name. It was like he was the only sound in the world besides the wind through the trees.
Nothing. Not a single response or sound answered him. He looked at his phone and still there were no bars. He put it into low power mode and waited for just a few more minutes while the fog was finally starting to clear. When it cleared, what he saw caused anxiety to boil up inside of him.
This was not his home.
Sure this was a mountain forest, but these were not his woods and his mountains. He knew he was not where he was supposed to be, by a large distance. Things didn’t add up in his mind. Past that ridge, there was supposed to be fucking Tennessee, and it simply wasn’t there. He had spent countless summers up here with his brothers, hunting and camping. He looked up at the blue sky and saw no airplane contrails. He remembered standing on this very boulder and pointing out where the towns were on the horizon. He looked down to realize the boulder wasn’t a boulder, but simply an outcrop. His stomach sank. Am I going crazy?
He yelled out in frustration. “What the fuck is happening!?” Now his voice disturbed a murder of crows that sent their caws echoing over the valleys below him. He fished out his small pair of binoculars from his pack and looked around him. “What in the goddamn hell. There shouldn’t be rocky snow capped mountains around here.” But there it was off in the horizon, a tall mountain range stood proudly, like a middle finger to his sanity.
Between him and the mountains lay endless forest. There was only one sign of civilization he could see, and luckily it seemed like it was only a two hour hike from the ridge. Columns of smoke rose from the chimneys of a little town that was surrounded by strips of farmland.
“If she’s not there, then I can at least round up some people to start a search for her. Damn it… still no bars.” John’s wilderness training kicked into gear and he pulled the compass from his pack. What the compass showed him, shocked him.
“North is South? What the fuck?” He looked towards where the early morning sun rose and back at the compass needle. The sun rose in the East, and he did his mental math and that compass was pointing exactly opposite from where it should have.
“Poles don't shift that fast. The compass must be broken.” He moved the compass away from his pack in case there was something in there causing it to deflect, but it was the same issue. At least it was consistently wrong. He took a bearing on the town and looked for a game trail that headed down the mountains.
Like an east coast hiker taking his first trip to the national parks of the US west, John noticed the differences in flora and fauna. Crows were daubed with bright green splotches on their crown. Squirrels were black with white tufts of hair on their ears. Ferns tucked away in gullies were purple and blue. Not knowing what predators were around this weird place, he wanted to be cautious. He hung his bear spray from his pack and had his pistol at the ready. Evidence was piling up that John wasn’t in the United States, but he wasn’t convinced completely yet.
Just as his water was running out he crossed a mountain creek. The amateur survivalist smiled when he remembered to pack the water filter. He filled the bag with what looked like clean water and capped it with the filter. Squeezing the bag, he slaked his thirst from the long hike.
His mind drifted between the bucolic surroundings of this pristine wilderness, and the terrifying realization that his beloved Tricia was missing and clearly in danger. The thought drove him faster down the game trail. When the trail veered off course he would take a bearing, then bushwhack for a time until seeing another clearing or trail that he could take towards his destination.
After the better part of the morning he finally started to smell the scents of civilization, or at least country living. The odor of smoking meat wafted past his nose, causing his stomach to growl. He felt he was so close he decided to grab a granola bar to tide himself over before he could get to a convenience store.
“Finally! Yes!” He put his boot on what looked to be a logging trail. He easily doubled his pace. The trees gave way to tree stumps, and then finally to cultivated land. The fields look well kept and productive. Rows of squash, cucumber, vegetables, and grain lay in neat rows in dark soil.
“Must be some sort of goddamn hippie commune, all earthy crunchy.” He muttered to himself. “But where are the houses?” The path was now bordered by stone fences about hip height. He wondered if he was in some tucked away corner of New England.
Then he turned a bend in the road to see the town. It looked like it was surrounded on all sides by a high wooden post palisade, like he had seen at historical reenactment forts. The road led to a gate in the palisade. He approached to see a pair of men sitting in little huts by the gate, holding what looked like spears. They wore wool tunics under chainmail shirts, and were topped with simple metal helmets.
“What. The. Fuck?”
He marched to the gate and the two men rose to meet him and smiled.
The one with more teeth spoke in a cockney accent. “Good morning ranger. How was your patrol?”
John took a step back, not knowing what to say. “I’m doing just fine. Could you tell me where I am?”
“This here’s the fine town of Dolono in the kingdom of Neyland.” He clanked his mail shirt with his spear. “State your name and where ye hail from.”
“I’m John Shea, and I’m originally from the state of Pennsylvania, but I moved to… the place over the mountains when I turned eighteen.”
“Heheheheheh.” The pair of guards laughed.
“What’s so funny.”
Many teeth spoke. “No one lives there. Are you mad? Todd, I think he’s mad.”
Fewer teeth sneered slightly. “Neal, he don’t drool like a mad one.”
Neal pointed to John. “The place beyond the mountains is cursed. People go there and never come back.”
“That’s why I’m here. I think my fiancée has been kidnapped and likely in terrible danger.”
“Wots fiancée?” Neal grunted.
“The woman I’m going to marry.”
“Then why not say that? And if she’s lost up there, it ain’t likely she’s breathing. Ranger, you should know that the wilderness is teaming with goblins, kobolds, and other monsters. She’ll be lucky if she’s dead.”
John spoke over him. “What do you mean by that?”
“No such thing as lady goblins.” He shrugged. “How d’you think they have pups?”
“This is fucking crazy.”
Neal scowled. “No need for profanity young man. We’ll let you in, on account of you being a ranger. If ye need help on some fool quest to find your betrothed, your best bet is to get yourself to the adventuring guild and post a quest. You may get lucky, but you’ll have to pay.”
John had no time for this baloney and walked past them into the town. “Thank you gentlemen.”
Todd saluted. “Have a good day master ranger.”
John was stunned at what he saw inside Dolono. It was like a cross between a wild west town and a renaissance fair. Rough hewn timber buildings were topped with thatched roofs. No building was over two stories. While some people looked rough like the guards, most people were healthy and rather good looking. He felt like he was on a movie set. He stepped through the muddy lanes and looked around. There were no signs with writing so he had to ask a young boy where the adventuring guild was. The young lad pointed towards the center of town, he spoke with the same accent as the guards. “Center of town, tallest building except for the temple.” He scampered off.
The electrician noticed he stood out like a sore thumb compared to all these people. They wore clothing just like they were from a movie set in medieval times, while he was decked out in camo camping gear. The women were all pretty and gave him more than a double take before whispering to each other and giggling. The men eyed him with suspicion.
The adventuring guild looked just like a larger house in the central plaza of Dolono. It stood four stories high and featured a large sign with a sword and shield carved on it. He walked inside to find a hive of activity. The floor was covered in straw and handsome men and beautiful women in armor strutted around talking and planning while seated at large wooden tables. Some were drinking and laughing, and others were asleep and face down in whatever was being served for breakfast.
“May I help you ranger?” A chipper voice called from his right. He turned around and saw a woman in an outfit that told him she was some sort of administrator. What struck him was that she was wearing cat ears. He was startled when he noticed they were moving and flicked. They were too lifelike to be robotic.
“Are….are those real?” He pointed to her head.
“Uh, yes.” She said as politely as she could. “I’m a cat kin. Welcome to Dolono’s Adventurer’s Guild. Are you signing in or do you have some other business?”
“Um, I would like to post a quest? My fian… the girl I am to marry was kidnapped in the mountains East of here, I’d like someone to help me find her.”
“Oh dear.” The ears pointed back. “That’s likely to be a case of goblin abduction. How long ago did it happen?”
“Last night.”
“Oh dear, oh dear.” She pulled out a sheet of sepia colored form and started filling it out.
“What’s your name?”
“John Shea, I’m from the suburbs of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania.”
“Don’t know where that is, I’m just writing it down. What do you have as a reward? The guild takes ten percent.”
“You don’t take credit do you?”
“The guild only extends credit to members of the guild.” She looked him over. “If you’re in a guild, it's likely not to be in our network.”
“All I have is one hundred dollars.” He pulled out five twenties and showed her. “I’m sure that’s not enough to hire any group for more than an hour.
“What in the gods’ names is that?” She held one up as if it was some very odd precious thing. “That is exquisite artistry, and it does say it is ‘dollars’ as you say. We only take gold, silver, and copper neymarks.”
“Damn.” He clenched his fist. “This is insane! Who knows what’s happening to Tricia, and we’re bickering about money.”
The receptionist shook her head. “Think of it from an adventurer's point of view. No one is going to take on a low level quest for no money. Why risk their necks?”
“Where’s the law? Shouldn’t the government protect the people?”
“The guild is partially financed by the crown. It keeps the palisade wall maintained and pays for the guards. You should be more thankful.” The catkin girl was losing her patience.
John calmed himself, trying to find a solution. “I know where this is going, and I don’t want that to happen. I want to find my woman. I have no money. What do you think I should do?”
“You're a ranger, Ranger.” She looked him up and down. “You look strong as well. Sign up with the guild and see if you can join a party. You might be able to convince them to help you find the girl if you give up your shares for booty for a quest or two.”
“How do I sign up?”
The receptionist pulled out another paper form.
“What weapons can you wield?”
“I’m a crack shot with a rifle, and I’m pretty good with my revolver.” He smiled proudly.
“What are those?”
“Fuck…”
“No need for profanity sir.”
“Sorry. I actually do bow hunting. Does archery count?”
“It most certainly does.” She scribbled more fields in the form before grabbing him by the wrist. “Let's go down to the range and see what you’re worth.”
…
The range was located in a large courtyard behind the main guild building. A row of three targets stood against a tall fence. A man-at-arms nodded and handed him a longbow. John was lucky his brother eschewed composite bows and gave John a heavy draw bow for his sixteenth birthday.
The soldier smiled. “It’s always good to see what a ranger can do these days.”
“Why does everyone call me a ranger?” He asked the receptionist. “Is there something I don’t know?”
“The clothing you're wearing is a dead giveaway. You look like a walking tree. You rangers go on long patrols through the wilderness.” The cat girl smiled.
He set down his pack and nocked an arrow. Breathing calmly he drew and released in one smooth motion. Years of practice came to him and he felt confident in his skills. The arrow darted across the range to land in the bullseye.
“Nicely done lad.” The soldier grinned. “Let's see four more and I’ll give you a score.”
John loosed four more arrows. When he was finished all three of their mouths dropped open. He split the arrows one after another, leaving a single hole in the target. The arrows had sunk deeply into the tightly packed straw, indicating his hits would have done massive damage to whomever was hit by them.
“I’m not usually this good.” John looked at the bow.
The soldier took off his cap and looked at the guild receptionist. “Ezmirelda, if I score him now he’s A-rank for an archer. But I’m going to push this a little. John, please fire five more arrows. This time aim for the second target.”
“Yes sir.”
The same thing happened again, five arrows, four splits, leaving a single hole.
“I’ll be a goblins uncle. Fek me.” Ezmirelda muttered.
John and the soldier turned. “Language.”
“Yes, sorry.” The receptionist apologized. “I’ll mark him down as unconfirmed S-rank. John, you’ll need the captain of whatever party you join to come back to me and vouch for your archery skills while in the thick of combat.”
“Sounds good.”
“Come with me, we’ll get your identification medal etched and get you in the lists.”
