Dodge & Kylan
Book 1Initiation
Dashing across the rooftops of Victorian London, ghouls on his tail and a teenage Shoshone warrior by his side, was the last place Jacob “Dodge” Goldman expected to be on a Saturday night. A high school senior who has spent his life reading about people with extraordinary abilities, Dodge never expected to become one. But an ordinary afternoon at the Getty Museum changes everything.
Star athlete Kylan is everything Dodge isn't: confident, talented, the kind of person who commands a room without trying. When she asks the school's resident Dickens obsessive for help with an English paper, neither expects much to come of it. But somewhere between illicit museum photos and stories about the people they've lost, something shifts.
Then the Framework finds them. Ripped from their ordinary lives, Dodge and Kylan find themselves trapped in a living, breathing simulation of Victorian London, stalked by undead and worse.
Stat sheets. Skills. A mysterious Synergy Perk that suggests their connection runs deeper than either realizes.
The rules are simple: grow strong enough to survive, or don't survive at all.
The nerd and the jock have nothing in common. Except, perhaps, everything that matters. And in a world where death is permanent, survival depends on more than stats. It depends on who's got your back.
If you love the atmospheric world-building of urban fantasy and the addictive progression of LitRPG, join Dodge and Kylan on an adventure through Victorian London where history, magic, and monsters collide.
- Status
- complete
- Ruleset
- Chaosium BRP
- Read free
- Royal Road
- Buy
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Cast
Main
Jacob "Dodge" Dawkins Goldman
Arcane Shadow Rogue
Cerebral. Methodical. Passionate. Dodge was a classic nerd before the Framework. He's now discovering he's stronger and more capable than he ever dreamed.
Main
Kylan Issacson
Spirit Warrior
Strong. Athletic. Smart. Kylan was never the typical high school jock. The Framework is giving her the opportunity to unlock her true self — a compassionate warrior.
Excerpt
Chapter 1: Six O’Clock!
They ran. The air in 1888 London tasted like wet, pulverized coal. Every frantic breath pulled a layer of grit into Dodge’s nasal passages, coating his tongue in a fine, oily soot that no amount of spitting could clear. He scrambled up the oily incline of a slate roof, his fingers digging into the grime-caked gutters. In the outside world, as he'd come to think of it, the one where he'd thought the Getty Museum was just a place for field trips, Dodge couldn't even climb a rope in gym class.
Now, his muscles hummed with energy, a gift from the Framework. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes snagging on the sickly yellow fog that swallowed the street level forty feet below. Something was moving down there, something with too many joints and a sound like dry parchment tearing.
“Dodge, move! Six o'clock!”
Kylan’s voice cut through the rhythmic thud of his own heart. He didn't look back. In the short time they'd been together, he'd learned to trust her warnings and just react. He threw himself forward, his legs pumping with a Dexterity stat he still didn't quite understand. He cleared the gap between a tailor’s shop and a derelict tenement, his black combat fatigues snapping in the damp wind.
He landed hard, rolling across the uneven bricks of a chimney stack. The impact should have shattered his collarbone, but his new Constitution absorbed the shock, translating the pain into a dull, vibrating hum in his HUD. A small notification flickered at the edge of his vision, marking a successful acrobatic maneuver, but he swiped it away with a mental flick.
Kylan was already there, waiting for him. She looked like she’d been born for this, her Shoshone warrior leathers dark against the shifting sulfurous haze. She reached out, her hand steadying him as he lunged to his feet. Her grip was warm and grounding, a stark contrast to the cold, predatory shadows stretching across the roof behind them.
“You’re getting faster,” she said, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Even in the middle of a supernatural hunt, her eyes held a spark that made Dodge’s chest tighten for a reason that had nothing to do with the lack of oxygen.
“Faster isn't fast enough,” Dodge wheezed, adjusting the grip on his weapons. The weighted batons were solid and comforting in his palms.
“Think we lost them?”
Dodge turned, his eyes narrowing as he looked back toward the gap they’d just crossed. Two tiny shapes, only visible if you knew where to look, darted above the rooftops, their two familiars, Oliver and Nell, a pair of Black-chinned hummingbirds. Borrowing one of the bird’s eyes, Dodge saw a shape haul itself over the edge of the slate roof, its fingers elongated into ivory-colored talons. It looked like a corpse that had left the graveyard in favor of a predatory hunger. Its skin was the color of a bruise, and its eyes were nothing but pits of flat, dead charcoal.
“Nope.”