Description

Dante is twenty-two, professionally unemployed, and objectively less interesting than his village’s town drunk—who is also, somehow, the mayor. So Dante leaves for the big city to finally make something of himself.

He makes several things of himself. Most of them are crimes.

Within weeks he owns the worst bar in Asura, employs a workforce that does not strictly qualify as living, and has picked up a debt that cannot be settled in money. Assisting him: five friends whose entire strategic experience comes from a tabletop game, and who have never won an argument with a merchant, a bandit, or each other.

They have a plan. They always have a plan. The last one ended with a condemned building and a body count.

Between the crime boss demanding a cut, the sworn rival he cannot remember making, the noblewoman who has decided they are dating, and her father—who owns half the city and would like Dante dead somewhere in it—things are escalating faster than anyone budgeted for.

Dante remains extremely confident. It is the most dangerous thing about him.

Inside the disaster

• Found family with catastrophically flexible ethics
• Sword-and-sorcery filtered through deadpan committee meetings
• A bar, a debt, and the normalization of light necromancy
• Heroes whose consequences arrive right on schedule

Book one of the Dante Raises the Dead series.

Chapter 1: Dante, What’s His Deal?

The sky was falling. Tiny pieces of it smacked Dante in the forehead until he groaned awake and blinked up at the chaos. For one hazy, terrifying moment, he thought the world might actually be ending. But as his vision cleared, the truth came into focus: two squirrels perched on a tangle of branches overhead, gleefully hurling acorn shrapnel down upon him like little angry trebuchets.

“Alright, alright! I get it!” Dante grumbled, brushing a cascade of nuts and debris off his lap. He had been napping under their tree for who-knows-how-long, and apparently, he was intruding on their nut-cracking operation.

As he sat up, still bleary-eyed, he caught sight of a little girl standing a few feet away, staring at him with the kind of judgment only children can muster.

“Uh…hello?” he said, his voice scratchy from sleep.

The little girl said, “My dad says you’re a loser.”

He gave the girl a blank stare. “That’s not very nice. I’m not a loser.”

The little girl continued, “He said you don’t do anything, and no one wants to marry you. So that makes you a loser.”

Dante didn’t need this kind of personal attack first thing in the morning. Actually, it seemed to be noon, but that was still not a good time for these shenanigans. “That’s not nice of your dad to say. You don’t think I’m a loser, do you?”

The little girl thought for a moment. “No.”

He was touched. “Thank yo—”

The little girl interrupted, “I think you’re stupid, so it’s not your fault.”

Dante glared at the little girl. While her logic was sound, he didn’t like being verbally abused while being physically pelted with nuts. “Okay, thank you for the kind words. I need to go now. Tell your dad he is doing a bang-up job of raising a little monster.”

The little girl giggled and corrected him, “I’m not a monster, I’m a girl.”

He replied, “Same thing. Now get lost.” He tossed a nut in her direction while the squirrels above protested.

The little girl giggled and ran off, singing a song where the lyrics consisted of the word “Daisies” repeated over and over.

He stood up, shedding more nutshells, when—

“Still doing nothing, I see.”

Dante turned to find Serj standing there, arms folded, wearing that insufferable expression of superiority he’d perfected since they were kids.

“What, is everyone just standing around waiting for me to wake up?” Dante shot back.

At that moment, the town drunk—who was also somehow the village mayor—ambled past them toward the tree. He paused, eyeing Dante, and pointed with two fingers. “Ya don with the tree?”

“All yours,” Dante muttered.

The drunk nodded and continued his pilgrimage to Twiggy Bosoms while Serj watched with visible disgust.

“God, this place never changes,” Serj said, brushing imaginary dirt off his traveling clothes.

“Good to see you back. I didn’t know you were coming back.” Dante smacked Serj on the shoulder.

“I’m not staying long. Need to get back to Asura.” Serj moved his shoulder away from him.

“I bet. Big deal Serj, heading back to run the town I suppose.”

“Pff. If only. I would certainly do a better job than the brainless crooks they have now.” Serj continued, clearly not done, “Anyway, my friends and I have this whole thing going. A group, you might say. We’re actually onto something big.” He smirked.

”…That’s great, what?” He waited for more information.

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” Serj waved him off.

“I’m not worried, you just didn’t elaborate.”

“And I’m not going to,” Serj spat back.

“Then why bring it up?”

“Whatever, I’m already tired of this place. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning before it drives me insane.”

Dante wanted to be offended, but honestly? The man had a point, this place was definitely driving him insane.

“So you are skipping the wedding tomorrow?” Dante asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“Because I hate them,” Serj sneered.

”…That’s fair. Then why are you here?”

“Visiting my parents. They insisted I visit and bring them a nice wedding gift so they can show off or whatever.” Serj looked around with disdain. “Anyway, now that I’m seeing this place again, I can’t wait to leave.”

They’d been friends once, back when they were kids playing Heroes and Monsters. Before Serj moved to Asura to stay with some family. Things seemed to be working out for him.

A mocking voice interrupted them. “Hey Dante, slacking off as usual, I see. And with your old nerdy friend at that.”

Serj scoffed but didn’t say anything.

Dante sighed and glanced over to see James. They used to be friends too when they were little, but as they grew older, he became a huge asshole. “Shouldn’t you be busy planning your wedding?” Dante asked, his tone flat.

James smirked. “Oh, we are. I just stopped by to tell you about my trip to Asura with Harold. It was awesome. And guess what? I got something for you.”

Dante raised an eyebrow. James reached into his pocket, and for a moment, Dante thought he might actually produce something thoughtful. Instead, James pulled out his empty hand and gave Dante the finger, cackling at his own joke.

“Goddammit,” Dante muttered under his breath, then raised his voice. “Hey, thanks for going all the way to Asura for that, but unfortunately, I already have one.” Dante flipped James the bird. “Oh wait, I actually have two.” He flipped both birds at James.

James waved him off. “Whatever, don’t be so uptight. Just because I get to spend the rest of my life with Annalise while you’re stuck with your right hand doesn’t mean you can crap on my parade.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed at the “crap” comment, knowing it was a jab at his dad’s gong farming career. So fine. If James wanted to play dirty, Dante could oblige. “Dude, you’re marrying ANALease. Why are you bragging? That girl’s a bitch.”

“Jerk!” snapped Annalise, who had appeared from behind James like an avenging spirit. “Don’t talk about me like that!”

Dante froze. He hadn’t noticed her standing there. James, on the other hand, was smirking. One benefit of having a loudmouth fiancée, apparently, was pointing her fury at someone else.

Before Annalise could get fully wound up, Dante held up his hands. “Hey, relax. Don’t be mad at me… James is the one who came up with that nickname a long time ago.”

Annalise’s glare shifted to James, not exactly convinced Dante was telling the truth. James took this opportunity to look entirely guilty and turn beet red while avoiding eye contact.

True to her name, Annalise was not pleased. Her tense posture and scrunched face made that abundantly clear. “You what?” she hissed before shoving James hard enough to make him stumble. The two stormed off, already deep in a heated argument.

Dante watched them go. Serj took that as his cue.

“Well, I’m off in the morning. See you… whenever.” Serj walked away without looking back.

Dante stood alone, taking stock of his situation. For some reason, Serj leaving felt like his future was leaving. He had been down for a while now, aimless about what to do with his life. At this rate, he’d end up taking over the town drunk’s role, including the duty of fondling Twiggy Bosoms.

Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure how the man became the town drunk. It was either the job that turned him to drink or his bitch wife. But Dante had neither a job, a drinking problem, nor a bitch wife. He was less interesting than the village drunk. He was at the bottom of the barrel here.

“Fuck this,” he said out loud to no one. “Fuck all of this.”

He was going to Asura. Not tomorrow. Not after the wedding. Tonight. Before he would get lazy and change his mind. It was final: he would journey to Asura and strive to become somebody! …Really, anybody would do.

Dante hurried to gather supplies. If he was leaving, he wanted to haggle with Harold one more time and get some goods.

Harold, the village merchant, was not happy to see him. Yet, Dante was very happy to see him. Harold opened the conversation with, “I just got these from Asura. One silver an arrow, I’m not budging this time. These are premium, top of the line stuff.”

Dante smiled, “Harold, you know how this always goes, I literally have all day. Plus, I know you need the money what with your daughter’s wedding and all.”

Harold sneered, “You come to me, the day before my daughter’s wedding and demand a discount?”

Dante responded confidently, “I do.”

About an hour and a half later, Harold was at his wits’ end and blurted out, “Just take the damned things.”

He handed Dante 12 arrows and took 6 silver for payment. At this point, Harold was willing to give them away for free or possibly strangle the boy just to be rid of his presence.

Dante greedily took the arrows, and some other supplies, satisfied with his haggling skills once again. Before he could walk away, Harold spoke again with a different tone. “Dante wait, can you do me a favor?”

Dante did not respond but looked at him expectantly. Harold put his hands together and continued, “I’m sure you know, but Jane is here for the wedding. You two were friends. When you get a chance to talk to her, can you ask her how she is, how things are going?” He waved his hand in a circle to gesture ‘that sort of thing.’

Dante looked at him with a hint of confusion, “Sure, I can do that.”

Harold smiled, “Great, thank you. But don’t tell her I asked. And here, take this.” He tossed another arrow at him. Dante caught it, nodded and made a slight wave as he walked away. He couldn’t help but feel odd about the request.

Dante made his way home, his strides unusually purposeful. A few villagers paused their own tasks, curious about his sudden determination. He stepped inside, where Rusty was stirring a pot over the hearth.

“Dad, I’m going to Asura,” he blurted out.

Rusty turned, ladle in hand, eyes narrowing as if to gauge his son’s sincerity. “Well… that’s great, son. When?”

Dante bent down to rummage through a small pack. “Uh, tomorrow.”

Rusty’s brow furrowed. “So soon? You’ll miss the wedding. Why the rush?”

Dante struggled to find a satisfactory reason, so he made something up, “I heard there will be a bird convention in town.”

Rusty arched an eyebrow. “Birds? Didn’t know you cared so much about them.”

Dante continued, “Yep, also I will be looking for a job.”

Rusty was visibly saddened that Dante would not be following in his waste-covered footsteps, but he was also pleased that his son wanted to become a productive member of society. “I understand.”

Dante stepped closer, resting a hand on his father’s shoulder, meeting his gaze. “It’s time, Dad.” After a moment, he turned back to his pack and added softly, “Maybe I can even find some of those Regal Reserve cigars you like.”

Rusty’s eyes warmed, and after a hesitant pause, he managed a smile. “Alright, son. I’ll hold you to it.”

The next day, Rusty handed Dante some rations and a small pouch of coins. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you started.” His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

“Thanks, Dad,” Dante said, shaking his father’s hand but avoiding eye contact. A pang of guilt gnawed at him. It had been just the two of them for so long, and the thought of leaving his father alone weighed heavily on him. He took a deep breath and pushed the feeling aside. It was time. He had to go.

Dante had decided not to say goodbye to anyone else in the village. It had seemed simpler at the time. Now, as he finally left, he felt an unexpected wave of regret. He’d spent his entire life among these people and, though they often annoyed him, they were still his community. He shook his head. It was time.

Dante caught up with Serj on the road. Serj heard footsteps and turned, his expression shifting from surprise to irritation.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you,” Dante said.

“No. Go home.”

“Too late. I already left.”

Serj stared at him for a long moment, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he sighed and turned back to the road. “Fine. But don’t slow me down.”

They walked in tense silence for a while before Serj finally asked, “Where are you even going to stay in Asura?”

Dante admitted, “I… haven’t figured that out yet.”

Serj sighed dramatically. “There’s the Broken Door Inn. They’re cheap. Or the streets—those are free.”

“Damn, I can’t stay with you for a bit?”

“I have to take a detour, so I’m not going to Asura. You’ll be on your own.”

Dante tried to prod further, but Serj was tight-lipped about his destination.

They had a long day’s walk, and as darkness fell, they made camp and heated some dinner. All the while engaging in some small talk about their past. Serj was reluctant to talk about what he had been up to. Which Dante found very odd since this was a childhood friend.

After eating they both lay on their sleeping rolls trying to get some rest when Dante broke the long silence.

“Is your secret stuff of the illegal variety?”

“Drop it.”

“Fine, keep your secrets.”

The next day was more of the same, walking and small talk about the past. In the evening the first drops of rain began. Dante suggested, “We better make camp.”

“You better make camp,” Serj corrected. “I have to go meet my friends.”

“What, here?” Dante looked around at the road surrounded by woods. “Well, I’m coming with.”

“No.”

Thunder crackled overhead.

They stared at each other for a beat.

“Come on,” Dante tried.

“No.”

Thunder rang out again.

“Dude, how are you doing that?”

Serj looked up as rain began to fall in earnest. “Fine. Let’s hurry up.” He veered off the road onto an old, beaten path Dante hadn’t even noticed.

They ran through the increasingly heavy rain, following the winding path until they arrived on an old wagon road. From here they were able to run. Eventually, an old church appeared in a clearing. It looked weathered but sturdy enough to keep them dry.

“Your friends live here?” Dante asked, incredulous.

“Just shut up and follow me,” Serj snapped.

They hurried inside, and Dante immediately saw four individuals huddled around a table, deeply engrossed in a game of Heroes and Monsters. They were all dressed in similar robes adorned with occult symbols.

The cultists stopped their game and stared at them in surprise.