Thank you for reading!
Major stepped back to let Liv in, looking with some suspicion at the books and various paraphernalia piled in her arms. "This is new."
"This is a quest. The great quest to gain knowledge and adventure with one's fellows—and perhaps to gain a bit of treasure, as well."
"What, now?" He looked over her head at Clive, who was following her in, looking pained.
"New case. He was a dragonmaster or something—"
"Dungeon-master," Liv corrected.
"And now Liv wants us all to pretend to be fairies."
"Elves!"
"Whatever," Clive muttered.
"Wait, all of us?" Major followed them, watching as Liv cleared off the dining room table and started setting things up. She was wearing a weird witch's hat or something, and speaking like Robin Hood.
Ravi came downstairs and groaned. "She didn't."
"She did. She is." Major shook his head at his roommate. "No heads up on this madness? Not cool, man. Not cool."
"How could I possibly have done justice to this?" Ravi gestured at the table and went to let Peyton in.
It took a remarkably long time to go through the rules of character creation, especially with Clive and Peyton both just itching to find a way to escape the whole ordeal. But finally they were ready to start.
Liv held out her hand, holding more kinds of dice than Major had known there were in the world. "You each start the campaign with this many gold pieces." She rolled the dice and Ravi leaned forward, quickly doing the math and coming up with twenty-seven.
"I buy a small farm and retire from adventuring." Clive took a long swallow of his beer as if hoping enough of it would get him through the night.
"We've been diddling around for two hours!" Major pointed out. "We haven't actually done anything."
"The creation of characters is an essential part of the game," Liv informed him.
Clive rolled his eyes. "The actual point of which is?"
"Oh! To trigger a vision to help solve Dungeon Master Dan's murder," Ravi explained with the annoying grin of a classic teacher's pet.
Liv smiled at him approvingly. "And who might this hirsute stranger be? Introduce yourself."
Ravi eagerly picked up his character sheet. "I'm Moscoe Bandywax of the Mirkwood Bandywaxes," he said, putting on a whole different British accent from his normal one. "I'm a halfling monk."
Looking past him at Major, Liv said, "And you, good sir?"
"I am Sirjay Esquiborne, a human paladdin."
She frowned. "I don't remember your character earning a knighthood."
"Oh, he's not a knight. His first name is 'Sirjay'."
"Clever. I'll be watching you," Liv said. Ravi offered Major a fist to bump.
"And you, madam?"
Liv's gaze turned to Peyton, who looked up from her phone, startled. "Hi. Uh … Brangelina Darksbane. Dark elf assassin." She nodded and returned to her phone.
Last but not least, Liv turned to Clive. "And who might this stout fellow be?"
He looked at her with the pained gaze of the long-suffering. "Earl. Dwarf fighter."
"Earl," Liv repeated, making it sound a lot more exciting than Clive had. Then she gazed upon all of them and with surprisingly engaging storytelling, said, "Your story begins. Night falls on Astergrove, a hamlet on the frontier of the human kingdom of Ustoglovia. You've never seen each other before, but you find yourselves gathered in the study of Georgie Fogglebottom, last wizard east of Gloomy Glen. You regard each other uncomfortably." When none of them reacted, she repeated it, waving her hands for emphasis. "You regard each other uncomfortably!"
They did so. Clive asked, "Anyone know if Gloomy Glen is a person or a place?"
"Either way, we should steer clear," Ravi said, still in the fake accent.
"Silence!" Once they were all looking at Liv, she continued, "A door opens in the back of the room, and in walks a small, unarmed woman holding a teacup." She lifted her wineglass for authenticity. "She takes a sip." Liv did so, putting the wineglass down afterward. "Sits down, and regards the group." Twisting her face up, and using an old woman's voice, she said, "'This was the best I could do? Very well," she added, ignoring the smiles the rest of them passed back and forth across the table. "'You'll kill the lich of Castle Rumskottle.'"
"Lich, please," Major muttered.
Liv turned to look at him, still speaking in the old woman's voice. "'If you survive, you'll bring me his head. Then, and only then, will you be showered with treasure befitting your efforts.'"
Major looked at Ravi. "Sounds dangerous, Moscoe. Maybe you should go outside, wait on your horse."
Ravi looked uncomfortably across the table at Peyton and didn't respond.
Leaning forward and putting her wineglass down, Peyton asked, "What's a lich?"
"'Oh, a lich is a terrible creature. A member of the undead.'"
"Gross," Major said.
"Kill it! Kill the undead creature!" Ravi cried.
"Let me get this straight. So, we can go and find Castle What's-his-nuts, fight that thing, come back, and we'll get rewarded by this little old lady, or we could just … tie up this little old lady and take what we want now."
Liv glared at Peyton, but Major nodded. She had a good point.
"Georgie begins to mutter an incantation," Liv announced. She mumbled some syllables Major didn't quite catch. "Electricity fires from her hands and strikes Brangelina!"
"I try to dive in front of the lightning bolt. 'Not on this day, Miss Fogglebottom!'" Ravi reached his hands across the table as if to stop the bolt, not noticing as Peyton rolled her eyes.
"The lightning bolt has already struck Brangelina and Moscoe lands on the ground in front of her looking foolish," Liv said. She rolled some dice. "Brangelina, you take … 34 points damage." She gave Peyton a side-eye. "How many hit points do you have?"
Peyton reached for her paper, studying it. "34. Well, I'm dead. Good luck with the lich, I bid the Fellowship of the Dorks good-night." She gave a little salute and began to stand up from her chair.
Ravi pointed at her across the table. "I begin mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
"I move toward the light," Peyton insisted.
"Moscoe won't give up. He keeps performing chest compressions, keeps engulfing her mouth with his, breathing his life force into hers." Ravi pounded the table with his fist. "'Live! Live, damn ya!'"
Peyton looked at Ravi with frustration, and glanced beseechingly at Liv.
"Brangelina's eyes flutter open," Liv whispered dramatically.
Rolling her eyes, Peyton sank back into her seat, while Ravi looked insufferably pleased with himself.
"'So,'" Liv said in her Georgie impersonation. "'What say you, Fellowship of the Dorks? Do you venture forth, and face the lich, or stay, and take your chances with me?'"
They ventured forth. As the campaign went on, Major surprised himself by finding it surprisingly fun. Ravi had been into it from the start, and Peyton did as little as she possibly could. Clive, on the other hand, started off scoffing at the whole thing, but little by little he was drawn in.
At last they were nearing the end of their quest, exhausted, battle-worn, but determined to prevail.
Liv was standing up at the head of the table. "You enter the lich's quarters. You hear muttering. You look up, and you see the lich perched on a giant wooden chandelier. A fireball comes hurtling down at you." She rolled the dice.
"Not good," Clive said, studying the board intently.
"Everyone takes 38 points damage."
"I'm dead," Peyton announced, knocking her avatar over on the board.
"I bind her wounds! I begin to—"
Liv unceremoniously knocked Ravi's piece over as well. "You're dead, too, halfling." She looked at Major. "Your turn. What do you do?"
"I swing with my longsword."
"At what?" Liv asked, resuming her seat. "The lich is ten feet above you."
"Well, throw something!" Ravi cried out. "Isn't there a stone somewhere, don't you have a dagger?"
"The dwarf!" Major pointed across the table at Clive.
"Say what?"
"I throw the dwarf up to the chandelier! I've got 18 strength."
"Does the dwarf allow himself to be thrown?" Liv looked at Clive, who studied the board, considering the question.
"Yeah, fine," he decided.
"Sirjay throws Earl up to the chandelier." She rolled a die. "He sticks the landing. Earl, what do you do?"
Visibly relieved, Clive announced, "I cleave this undead hellspawn in twain with my Axe of the Dwarven Gods." While Major and Ravi watched tensely, he shook the die in his hand and rolled it. A 19.
"You hit. Roll for damage."
Clive did so, rolling a 12. "Booyah!" He got out of his seat, speaking directly to the piece representing the lich. "How do you like old Earl now, you damned dirty lich?"
Major thought that might be some premature celebration. "Is it dead?" he asked Liv.
"The lich looks badly wounded." Liv stood up and reached for the piece. "But it launches itself from the chandelier and disappears from view as it enters this antechamber."
"We give chase!" Ravi cried out.
"You go into the chamber, but the lich is gone."
"We search the room for secret doors," Clive said.
Liv gasped and froze, clearly in the middle of a vision. As she let her breath out, Peyton asked, "What did you see?"
"A secret door. In Dan's apartment!"
"Great. We're done here." Peyton got up from her seat, but Clive put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back down again.
"No, we're not," he said, staring intently at the board. "Where is the lich?!" he shouted, as if something on the board was going to answer him.
They all looked at Liv, whose eyes sparkled as she drew them on to the next part of the quest.
The game ended late in the night, with the lich satisfactorily dead and oodles of treasure in everyone's Bags of Holding.