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Best of Intentions (Resident Evil/DnD) ch. 1
🕑 Added 2023-03-28 15:11:00 +0000 UTC“Sir, you need to pay for that,” an overweight Walmart greeter held me up with a hand, a bushy beard on his face that I was only a little jealous of. His gaze flickered to my two very full grocery carts filled with a wide variety of items -- batteries, water, canned food, and so on and so on. Basically, everything you would need in a survival scenario. None of which was currently bagged.
I smiled, “Nah, I’m shoplifting. Thank you, though,” I said, not breaking my gait in the slightest as I pulled one buggy and pushed another. The greeter blinked at the rather blunt admission, going to move in front of me to cut me off. “Look, you’re doing your job. Not holding that against you, or anything. But did you know you could get fired for interfering? Corporate decided that they’d rather lose groceries than deal with a lawsuit.” That, as I suspected it would, brought him up short.
“Er-” Ted, I saw based on the nametag, suddenly seemed far less certain about what he was doing. I understood. I really did. His entire job revolved around checking receipts to make sure no one was stealing, but he wasn’t actually here to stop thefts. He was here to discourage them. People saw him, figured that he might notice that extra jar of peanut butter that wasn’t on the receipt, and… I don’t know. Full-on body tackle them or something. But, if someone told him to get fucked when they noticed the extra jar of peanut butter?
He couldn’t officially do anything to stop them. He had to watch them go.
Thank god for the American justice system, where even criminals could sue the right side of the law.
“These groceries tally up to over a felony amount, so, if you want, you can follow me out and take my license plate number. Pass that over to the cops,” I offered, striding right past him and the metal detectors. I didn’t care in the slightest that they beeped. Ted scratched at his cheek, looking around for someone to give him instructions on what to do before he mentally shrugged and followed me out.
It was midafternoon, so the roads were busy in Racoon City. Busier than normal on the back roads since the main roads were stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. ‘Road work’ was being done on them. How people bought that excuse was beyond me. I’m really starting to buy into the idea that Umbrella was doing something to the drinking water -- hence the water bottles. Ted followed me out to a truck that I had commandeered for the occasion and watched me awkwardly as I began loading up.
“So, er… you a doomsday prepper or something, Mr…?” He tried to make some small talk, shifting from foot to foot.
“Rudeus Rain, but everyone calls me Rude,” I said with a too big of a smile, and his expression told me he didn’t miss the pun. “And I prefer the term survivalist.”
“... isn’t that for, like, camping in the woods and stuff?”
“Maybe. I’ve never gone camping before, so I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. If humans were meant to survive in the wilderness then we wouldn’t have created air conditioning. My ancestors didn’t escape the food chain -- not just rise to the top of it, but outright escape it -- so I could larp living in the olden days when everything was objectively shitter due to the lack of easily accessible hot water and microwavable hot pockets.
Ted fell silent for a moment, watching me load everything up. “Is… there a reason you’re bu-... er, stealing so much stuff?” He asked, sounding genuinely wary. Ted struck me as someone rather awkward. Which made him something of an odd choice to be a greeter, but I didn’t hire him.
“Because the world will be ending in a couple of days and I need to load up on stuff for the post-apocalypse community that I’m going to be setting up,” I explained, sliding the last of the water battles into the bed of the truck before I started tossing all the loose end stuff. I stole a fair bit, so it was taking a quick minute. Ted seemed like he genuinely had no idea how to respond to that. “Zombie apocalypse. Dead people are going to rise up and feast upon the living. It’s gonna suck, but I imagine the end of the world is always going to suck. Hey, could you help me with this?” I said, realizing that I forgot about the dog food.
Ted nodded and helped me slide the dog food bag into the truck. “You’re going to allow pets?”
“Course,” I agreed. “It’d be a pretty big dick move to save someone from being eaten by a corpse and tell them they had to leave the dog or cat behind, right?” I said, throwing in the last of the items. There was a pretty large pile of stuff in the truck by now.
“I guess?”
“Exactly. So, Ted -- I read your name tag,” I added when I saw an expression of pure panic when I said his name. “I’m thinking we have something like… I dunno… a day or two before the city goes to shit. You’re going to be hearing about a bunch of strange stuff on the news and military evacuations. Don’t go there. The military is full of idiots and they will get you killed. You’re going to want to come here,” I said, passing him my card.
He looked down at it for a moment before accepting it. On it was an address and on the back was a list of recommended supplies to bring. “I don’t know-”
“Ted, how long do you think it’s been since someone called the cops on me?” I interjected, and now he looked nervous again. “Ten minutes? Fifteen? Raccoon City isn't that big, but it has a solid police force. Do want to know why they aren’t coming, Ted?” I asked him and he was starting to pale. “Because they’re too busy with calls of unexplainable violence and suspects that won’t go down. Not sure if you’re on the internet, but you should be seeing some videos floating around.”
Closing the bed of my truck, I pushed the buggies over to the gate, leaving Ted staring at the card.
“It’s your call, Ted. But, even if you don’t show up -- buy a gun and shoot them in the head. See ya,” I waved him bye, getting in the truck. Starting it up, I pulled out of the side road to join the flow of traffic… though, not before I heard Ted’s parting words.
“Did I just get invited to a cult?”
Hopefully, he would wisen up, but if he didn’t, then that was on him. I couldn’t save everyone. I just had to save those that I could. I did my best to spread the word. I printed off pamphlets and dropped them off. Did the same for business cards -- which were so much more fucking expensive than the pamphlets. It was half of the reason why I was stuck stealing everything, I had spent my money trying to warn Raccoon City, but they just plugged their ears to it.
It sucked. It honestly, really, really, really sucked. I understood not believing the guy that ranted and raved about the end of the world because no one wanted it to be the end. Hell, people were more concerned about Y2K than they were about the very real apocalypse that was broiling underneath their feet. It was just that I knew I was right. I knew it. I could scream until I was blue in the face, but it wouldn’t change anything. Most people simply wouldn’t believe me until it was far too late.
Which left me sticking with plan B. If I couldn’t stop what was coming then I simply needed to prepare to weather the storm.
Whistling a tune to myself, I saw more ‘road work’ on my way back. Taking off down a back road, I looped around to where I was planning to set up a base. I wanted to be near a landmark. There were some places that people naturally drifted to when it came to an emergency -- a police station, a hospital, a community center, and so on. I wanted to be near one, but too close and I could quickly find my sanctuary overwhelmed. If not with panicked people, then the dead.
So, I had a checklist of requirements. Some place spacious that could hold a large number of people. Somewhere that was isolated by nature, but also close to a major landmark. Additionally, in case of word of mouth, it needed to be identifiable in a ‘I know where that is’ kind of way. Between those three, the list got thinned out rather considerably.
Then, in a stroke of brilliance, I realized I had my answer.
Directly across the street from a building I was currently living in was the central station. It wasn’t anything as grand as the Central Station in New York, but it wasn’t small by any means. More importantly, located directly on top of it was a small shopping mall where you could generally find a number of small appliances. It was pretty much perfect. It was connected to every part of the city, everyone knew where to find a train station… all I really had to do was secure the tunnels.
Something that would be easy enough to do with enough people. In theory, at any rate. I’m sure it would wind up being a lot more complicated than I thought it would be, but as far as bad options went, it was the best of the bunch. Even if setting it up would be a pain in the ass… made more so because some prick stole my parking spot. Again. So, parking the car, I got out, attached a hook to the back of the offending vehicle, and just pulled it out of my parking spot, leaving it in the road.
That could be someone else's problem. I was trying to save the world here. Dick.
Putting the truck in park, I went about the long and arduous process of transferring everything into my apartment. Air bnb's wouldn't be a thing for another twenty years, I had to put my name on a lease and everything. It was a basement apartment -- decent enough in size, but it was rapidly becoming cluttered with all of the supplies I was bringing in. There were stacks and stacks of food, water, blankets, and stuff. I even had a little herb garden -- Green herbs only since I hadn't managed to find a place that sold Red, or any of the other colors.
It wasn't enough to sustain a large number of people for a long time, but it would be more than enough for a start. The ball could start rolling. All of this was about getting in position to make sure there was a ball to start rolling in the first place.
Everything was organized and I had something in the works when it came to transporting everything over when it was the last hours of the world as we knew it. Plus, we still had time. Probably. It was hard to gauge when everything would go to shit down to the last minute, but I figured when the military was calling for mass evacuations that would probably be a good hint. Something that honestly made it feel more daunting. I’d rather know the exact second everything went to hell so I knew how much time I was working with.
A frown tugged at my lips as I finished organizing everything. “I think I’ve put it off for too long,” I admitted. The ‘Road Work’ was closing in on me. The police were swamped with work. The news said nothing about it, but all the signs were there. Time was running out. My gaze went to an outfit that I had hanging up. A motorbike suit -- thick leather rather than the for-style stuff, complete with a pair of steel toe boots and a motorbike helmet that I hollowed out.
As far as anti-zombie equipment went, it was hardly power armor. Or even a shark suit. But, both were either expensive or something I couldn’t get my hands on, so I went with the next best option.
“I gotta do it. Better now than later,” I knew, but the first step really was the hardest. Swallowing a sigh, I kicked off my shoes and started undressing until I was down to my boxers. Then I grabbed the body suit that was lined with icepacks and shrugged it on. “Fuuuuuuckkkkkk…~! That’s so cold,” I hissed, putting it on all the same before I went about putting on the bike suit. It went over the ice packs easily enough, leaving me feeling a bit stiff, but it was manageable. Filling the motorbike helmet up with some icepacks too left it sitting comfortably on my head.
It was cold now, but I knew that once I got moving with it, I would be thankful for it. Better too cold than too hot.
Looking upon my selection, I grabbed my tools for the evening -- a fire axe, a sack filled with some stones, and a gun for emergencies. At my belt, I had some tools and supplies. Slugging it all onto a backpack, I headed back up into the city and completely ignored the odd looks that I got on the street and headed for the manhole that led down into the sewer. Something of note -- sewer tunnels and train tunnels tended to go hand in hand. It was simply more convenient to build a sewer and a train tunnel at the same time, than going back to add one or the other.
Sliding the manhole cover back, I started to climb down, ignoring everyone asking me what in the hell I was doing, and simply closed the hole back up. Climbing down was a little awkward with how stiff my armor was, but I managed to drop down with little issue. Reaching up, I turned on the flashlight attachment I had glued onto my helmet, and hefted my axe.
And much to my dismay, I only had to walk around the bend before I stumbled across the first of my prey.
“You guys are like cockroaches, huh?” I said, my voice muffled by the helmet, but the creature clearly heard me. Before, it shuffled where it stood, lowly moaning. But when I spoke, it turned to me. Its eyes were clouded, and its face bloodless. Dark red blood covered its neck, revealing a gnarly-looking bite wound. Dried blood covered a white business shirt and black blazer, a nametag dangling from it. Daniel… something. I couldn’t read the rest of it because of the blood.
What I did see was the Umbrella logo.
Daniel started to shuffle toward me, its steps stiff and uncoordinated. Daniel bared some blood stained teeth, though, telling me that he had bit something. Hopefully not someone. Swallowing thickly, I hefted my axe with white knuckles, considering the space between us. It was shrinking step by step, the zombie’s arms stretching out to grab hold of me-
I took a step forward and brought the axe down on its head. I brought the spike down directly on the top of its skull, making it go still before it collapsed to the ground. My axe was freed of the weight when it collapsed at my feet. My heart was pounding like a drum in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins. My body was already running hot and the icepacks were all that were stopping me from dying of a heatstroke here and now.
“Fuck me, dude,” I breathed, breathing deeply. I gave Daniel a quick kick to make sure that he was dead. Bending down, I started checking his pockets and found a wallet. “Oh, black card. Nice,” I muttered, thinking I could tap into that before the banks shut down. There was some cash too that I took. Snagging it, I also grabbed the identity card on his blazer -- Daniel Fesshick. “How are you guys ending up in the sewer, huh?”
I knew about the fuck off massive underground complex beneath Raccoon City, so they probably had secret connections in the train and sewer systems. But, somehow, they were spilling out through those connections. From there, all it took was an unlocked door or fucking with the water treatment system and the undead could spill up to the surface. I wasn’t entirely sure how the entire thing started -- the games didn’t exactly go into specifics, or if they did, I completely missed it.
Tucking my loot away, I kicked the body into the ravine so I didn’t trip on it if I had to make a quick escape and I continued onward. The sewers were pretty well lit, all things considered. The pathways were, at the very least, but not all of the lights actually worked, leaving large swaths of the sewers nearly pitch black. My flashlight worked wonders for them. What it didn’t help was the sounds echoing off the stone walls.
The sound of water… and moaning. Cautiously, I crept forward toward the source, trying to make out the individual moans. It was almost like they were communicating in a weird way. But, as far as I could tell, it was one moaning and two others moaning back because the first one moaned. The echoes slowly got louder until I reached the source of them. I turned off my flashlight and peaked around a corner and my stomach clenched when I saw that there were five of them in total.
Swallowing thickly, I considered my options. Didn’t fancy my chances with the axe. I knew my zombie lore -- even the shambling ones were dangerous when they swarmed you, and I wasn’t that interested in seeing how well my armor would hold up. Instead, I improvised. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a stick of butter. Taking one of the stones that I had and mashing it in there, I reached to my belt to pull out a tiny xylophone mallet and tapped the stone.
I felt the magic happen even as it shone with light that quickly faded. A small pull in my gut told me that the spark of magic took hold. Bringing the stick of butter up I tossed it in the air and caught it, “Grease,” I whispered before I flung the butter around the corner at the zombies. Two spells took place at the same time -- the butter spread out in a thin ten foot radius. And, at the heart of the radius, the stone released a six second whistle. That drew all five of the zombies’ attention and they moved toward it.
Then, almost in unison, they all tripped and fell on their asses.
As soon as they did, I was moving. Hefting my axe, I slammed it down on the head of the closest one, killing it. The other zombies were trying to stand, with some having more success than others. I targeted the downed ones, killing them in a single strong swing while backing off from the ones that got up. One took a step forward and fell again, the grease still taking effect. I wasted no time killing it, and that left a single one that lunged for me. But, proper positioning made sure it never came close.
With a final swing, I buried the edge of the axe in its temple, and-
Congratulations, you have leveled up! Please select your choices!
Time seemed to freeze for a moment, stretching on for an impossible length. It was no less jarring than the first time that I had experienced it -- it was like my mind suddenly went into overdrive and my thoughts were like lightning as my head became filled with… well… A DnD character sheet. I, being a giant fucking nerd, knew it rather well. I eyed the important bits of my character sheet.
Rudeus Raine
Variant Human
Artificer 1
Level 2 (Xp: 300/900)
Strength: 9 (-1)
Dexterity: 15 (+2)
Constitution: 15 (+2)
Intelligence: 17 (+3)
Wisdom: 12 (+1)
Charisma: 8 (-1)
Feats:
Fey Touched: Your exposure to the Feywild’s magic has changed you, granting you the following benefits:
- Increase your Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma score by 1, to a maximum of 20.
- You learn the misty step spell and one 1st-level spell of your choice. The 1st-level spell must be from the divination or enchantment school of magic. You can cast each of these spells without expending a spell slot. Once you cast either of these spells in this way, you can’t cast that spell in this way again until you finish a long rest. You can also cast these spells using spell slots you have of the appropriate level. The spells’ spellcasting ability is the ability increased by this feat.
Spells:
Cantrips
Mending (V/S/M): This spell repairs a single break or tear in an object you touch, such as a broken chain link, two halves of a broken key, a torn cloak, or a leaking wineskin. As long as the break or tear is no larger than 1 foot in any dimension, you mend it, leaving no trace of the former damage.
This spell can physically repair a magic item or construct, but the spell can't restore magic to such an object.
Fire Bolt (V/S): You hurl a mote of fire at a creature or object within range.
1st Level
Grease (V/S/M): Slick grease covers the ground in a 10-foot square centered on a point within range and turns it into difficult terrain for the duration.
Detect Poison and Disease (V/S/M) (Fey Touched: Once per Day): For the duration, you can sense the presence and location of poisons, poisonous creatures, and diseases within 30 feet of you. You also identify the kind of poison, poisonous creature, or disease in each case.
The spell can penetrate most barriers, but it is blocked by 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of common metal, a thin sheet of lead, or 3 feet of wood or dirt.
2nd Level
Misty Step (V) (Fey Touched: Once per Day): Briefly surrounded by silvery mist, you teleport up to 30 feet to an unoccupied space that you can see.
Just the important bits, which was still a lot.
I went through my choices, choosing Artificer again, bringing me to level 2 with it. For spells, I picked up Healing Word simply because it was too useful to not pick up. Healing was king, after all. As for the far more important bit, while I had to wait another level to pick my subclass, I did unlock something extremely important to my class -- Artificer infusions. Magical items that I could create to help me on my quest. I had four to choose from a rather long list of things I would like. The four that I picked, however, were: Enhanced Arcane Focus, Enhanced Defense, Spellwrought Tattoo, and the most important one of all, Replicate Magic Item.
Bag of Holding, here I come.
With my decision made, all of a sudden, I was back in real time. It almost felt like I was flung back in my body, and all of a sudden, I felt a little stronger. I’m not exactly sure if I had health points or not, but I did feel hardier. I took in a deep breath and instantly regretted it, practically tasting shit and rot on my tongue. Gagging, I shook my head and looked around. Despite feeling like a solid ten minutes, not even a second had passed in real-time.
“Alright… let’s see what you got… and maybe find where you guys are coming from,” I remarked to the corpses. These ones were odder. Two men, three women. The women were wearing formal attire with one of them even wearing a lab coat, though I didn’t find any identification on her. However, the two men were wearing casual clothes -- pants, sneakers, and hoodies. Which was weird. The scientists and whatever were coming up from the complex, but what were normal people doing in the sewers?
I continued to explore the sewers, careful to mark my progress with arrows on the walls, but try as I might, I couldn’t find a single other zombie or where they were coming from. Deciding to cut my losses, I decided to head back up as I felt the ice packs starting to melt. They still had some time left, but I had experienced how hot it was in the suit before I had thought of the icepacks, and I was in no hurry for a repeat.
Heading back up, I pushed the manhole cover back and climbed out of the sewer. I saw the guy whose car I moved, and when I made to head into my apartment, he seemed to know that I moved it. But, wisely, he decided to not bother the man covered in blood after climbing out of the sewer.
“Ugh… This thing is the worst,” I decided, setting my axe by the door and taking off my helmet, my hair soaked with sweat. It just didn’t breathe. Great protection, but it cooked you. Shrugging it off, a small groan of relief escaped me. It would be decontaminated in the shower with liberal amounts of bleach. “MK. II is going to need some serious improvements. Like built in air conditioning… fuck, should’a gone with Prestidigitation,” I muttered to myself, shrugging off the undersuit of ice packs and putting it back in the fridge.
Taking out my contacts and putting on my glasses, I felt pleased with myself for my progress today. I managed to level up. I took my first real step toward combating the incoming apocalypse. I even managed to snag some funding. Now, I just needed to get a shit load of guns and ammo, more food… and maybe a generator, or something. Some board games maybe?
As I made my plans, I grabbed some orange juice from the fridge and poured myself a glass. Something that I nearly choked on when I heard the front door open. I whipped around, half expecting to see Umbrella behind me, sending a black ops squad to take me out. Instead, it was a woman. Her brown hair cut short, wearing a dark blue form fitting top and a pair of dark denim jeans. She was pretty, I quickly noticed.
But that was far less glaring than the gun she leveled in my direction.
“You,” Jill Valentine began, a deadly edge in her voice as she closed the door behind her, sealing my only exit, “Are going to tell me exactly how you know so much about the T-virus… and this so-called incoming apocalypse.” She decided, her gaze sharp enough to cut as she took notice of the bloodied axe by the door.
I swallowed thickly… “Could I put some pants on first?”
...
I've been on a zombie kick lately when I watched the Walking Dead on various flights. The DnD aspects came from withdrawal because I wasn't able to play and I discovered Dimension 20 youtube shorts. The entire idea for this one came from watching this one: Link. For those that can't be bothered to watch, it's addressing the idea that if you live an xp based level up world, if you want to get good at magic, you need to slaughter people instead of hitting the books.
And I thought it would be a neat leveling system. Resident Evil has plenty of chump xp bags while also offering some high-yield xp monsters in the forms of Nemesis or Mr. X. Making it pretty much perfect to level up in. Playing the magic straight could be a lot of fun because I will be using the Somatic, Verbal, and Material costs for spells. Especially using it to troll Umbrella.
The MC would likely end up being an Artificer Armor or Artillerist/Wizard build. Wizard up until you get something like planar shift if I feel like it could become a jumpchain, but if I go the self-contained story route, I'd probably go Artificer/Fighter. All depends on what people would like to see.
Comments
evilperson41
Looking forward to future chapters
MyAfroAteMyDog
This was awesome
Trevor Ritzke
definitly needs to go artillerist. That extra damage is definitely going to be needed, not to mention the insane defenses the protection turret can offer to everyone huddled within 5 feet of it. Absolutly perfect for protecting people who are trying to hold a breach against the horde.
Luigi Egbert
This is really fun , A fun little haunt into the RE world
Tyler T
Please continue this one, finding a resident evil fic that isn’t garbage is almost impossible.
LandWhale
A Planewalker is always fun if done right, so Wizard has my vote
