New Saddle, Same as the Old, Just Better Leather pt. 2

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"Before we begin," I said as my Lovely Bride picked out her dice, "I just want to make it clear that all of you fuckers know each other. We're not going through that bullshit where you pretend like you don't know each other and then try to awkwardly work together."

"Aw," Brittle Betty said as she laid out her rules cheat sheet, "I kind of like that part."

"Why," Biggboy's deep, gravelly voice asked from the end of the table.

"Oh," Brittle Betty said as her eyes got big, "I didn't realize I said that out loud."

"Well, you did," Poot said as he laughed. "So why do you like that part?"

"Um, well, I'm new," Brittle Betty said as she looked at her sheet and began to rearrange her dice, "and I don't really know you guys too well."

My Lovely Bride gently patted her on the arm and said, "That's okay dear. We're all new sometimes, just not in Charlie's games."

"Okay," Brittle Betty said with a smile.

"Right," I said, "let's get to it then." Characters were made, names written down in my book, and we began.

"A month ago you were all hired as couriers for the TAB Trading Conglomerate. As condition of your hire each of you were provided with a horse for your journey and room & board until you were called up. Those you see next to you were bunked in the same room alongside you as a 'team building strategy.' Hard to say if it worked as your days were filled with the boring monotony of being constantly on the alert for your first mission and it seemed as though you were going to die of boredom before anything interesting might happen. 

"Then came Tuesday night. 

"You were roused from your beds, rushed out to the patio in a pouring rain where you and your bunk mates were brought your horses. In front of you stood an elegant woman that towered over you as a small man strained to keep her dry under a massive umbrella. Her voice was a deep baritone that sounded as though it started in her ankles before it ever came out her severe mouth. She looked your group over with a look that might have been called disgust if she could have just cared enough about you to form an opinion. 'Give it to the tall one,' she says with a dismissive hand wave before turning and going back into the office.

"Biggboy, a bedraggled goblin walks over to you with a sealed, leather scroll case in his hand. 'My Lady says you're to have this and to go east to Red Castle,' and with that he walks away."

Biggboy held his hand up and mimed handing the case to my Lovely Bride, "I'm not fucking carrying that thing."

"Oh, thanks," my Lovely Bride said as she tucked it into her belt, "knowing my luck Charlie's just given us a portable black hole that will break open and kill us all starting with my lady bits."

"Your lady bits," Brittle Betty chortled.

"It makes boys uncomfortable in their pants when you say vagina," she said.

"You know," the Master Planner said, "I've been trying to get one of those for the better part of the last two years."

"Oh," I said as I set my dice in a row, "how's that working out for you?"

"Fucking terrible. You can't get those things to grow for shit."

"So, anyway," Icarus said, "we were D&Ding."

"Right," I said, "so what are you guys doing?"

My Lovely Bride looked about the table and said, "So how are we doing this?"

"What do you mean," Biggboy asked. "I mean it's D&D. We're going to kill things and take there stuff."

"Naturally," she said, "but this reminds me a lot of Arabella and that has me worried."

"Arabealla," Brittle Betty asked, "what is Arabella?"

"Who," my Lovely Bride replied, "she was a cross-dressing half-giant that nearly killed the whole party back in '06. Icarus, She'rah who you haven't met but is fucking awesome, and Step worked for her for a while. Then we crossed her."

"As you do," the Master Planner added.

"And she came after us."

"Yeah," Icarus said as he set his abacus just to the right of his character sheet, "it wasn't a fun time."

"Good game, though," my Lovely Bride added, "but it ended with the first TPK I've ever been a part of."

"So are you saying we shouldn't do this," Brittle Betty asked. "I was kind of looking forward to going to the Red Castle."

"Oh no," Biggboy said, "no they're not saying that. They're saying we shouldn't fuck with this bitch."

"Right," said the Master Planner, "so we do this one mission and then bug out on her?"

My Lovely Bride turned her gaze on me, "Can we do that?"

"You absolutely could. You would have to return the horses and any additional equipment you have borrowed from the TAB Trading Conglomerate," I told her as I started making notes of their suppositions. I've always found it best to take the game in directions where their imaginations are leading them and do something along those lines. The game seems to have a deeper impact that way.

"Okay," the Master Planner said, "then I'm ready to go."

The rest of the group took a few minutes to purchase some last second supplies and off they went into the world. The rain came down hard and the paths they traveled were muddy morasses that found their horses hooves sinking into the muck. Still they persisted on through the night until early morning when they saw a light off in the distance, flickering dimly in the darkness of the pre-dawn hour. 

"Is that where we're supposed to be going," Biggboy asked. "seems like we're awful close to the TAB house to be there so early."

"I don't know," the Master Planner said as he studied the map I'd handed him before the left, "we should be at the Red Castle about now if every thing went as normal but with all the rain and shit we could still be a few hours off."

"Do you want to wait until dawn and check it out then," Icarus asked. "It might be the best option."

"I don't really want to wait," Brittle Betty said in almost a whisper.

"What did she say," Biggboy asked.

"She said she doesn't want to wait," my Lovely Bride announced. She then smiled at Brittle Betty and gently said, "You're playing with a bunch of deaf bastards, dear. You're going to have to speak up."

"Okay," Brittle Betty said with a smile, "I can do that."

"A better question," the Master Planner said as he stroked his beard, "is are you a sneaky, little, rogue-like person who might make his way up the hill and tell what's going on up there."

Brittle Betty flashed a smile that lit up her whole face. "As a matter of fact," she said, "I think I might just be."

"Good," the Master Planner said as he checked his character sheet, "I'm pretty shit as anything dexterity based. Anyone capable of rolling up there with her or is she just better off on her own."

"I'd, um," Brittle Betty stammered, "I'd like to do it on my own. If that's okay?"

"Of course it is," my Lovely Bride said, "just scream if you need us."

"Okay," Brittle Betty said as he picked up her d20. "I'm heading up there."

As the party watched Brian of the Seven Fingers slipped off his horse and disappeared into the darkened woods. Brian of the Seven Fingers made his way up the slippery hillside, deftly finding secure footing along the way, and with barely any sound beyond the heavy drops of rain splashing off his clothing. For nearly ten minutes he carefully made his way up the hillside until he approached the edge of a clearing where the flickering torchlight had lead him. 

The clearing before him stretched out into a muddy semi-circle about a dozen paces across at it's longest. In the center, against the back of the hill, stood a large red door half open with lit torches to either side of the entrance. The ground showed heavy traffic of large footed humanoids and deep, drag lines leading deeper into the hillside. Brian of the Seven Fingers noted all of this down before returning to his waiting companions.

"Ogres," Biggboy said with a smile. "It's bound to be fucking ogres."

"Ogres," Brittle Betty stammered, "are they dangerous?"

"They can be if we get surrounded," the Master Planner said.

"So what do we do," Brittle Betty asked as she looked about the table.

"I guess we should keep going," Icarus said, "I didn't really prepare to fight ogres this early."

"Ogres," Biggboy rumbled as he began checking his character sheet.

"We could," the Master Planner said, "but if that's their home then there's no telling how much loot they've got inside."

"Ogres," Biggboy said with a smile as he caught my Lovely Bride's eye.

"Shit," she whispered.

"Ogres," Biggboy said with a nod.

"What's going on," Brittle Betty asked.

"Ogres are what's going on," Biggboy boomed. "And we're going up that hill, kicking their asses, and taking their stuff!"

"Okay," Brittle Betty squeaked.

"Ogres," my Lovely Bride said as she began gently slamming her head on the desk. "Fuck you Charlie Akins. It had to be ogres."

"Ogres," Biggboy practically shouted!

"Ogres," echoed the Master Planner and Icarus.

"Ogres," I said with a smile. 

"God damned ogres," my Lovely Bride said.

New Saddle, Same as the Old, Just Better Leather

Part 1

Part 2

Nobody Makes It Out Alive Free PDF

So one of the things that I've gotten a lot of request for over the last couple of month is a PDF copy of the short story Nobody Makes It Out Alive which followed an actual game that occurred. Today I'm happy to announce that I have finally gotten it completed with some revisions. Nothing major was done that might change the story. Clarifications to the text were made, a few misspellings were corrected, and the grammar was cleaned up to make sure that the story flowed better overall.

This story is still under my copyright and cannot be included in anyone else's publications without first receiving permission from me. That said you are free to share it with as many people as you like so long as it is linked back here and there are no alterations to the document or the text.

Hope you all enjoy it!

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The Hunting Party, Part 5: Fire and the Knights

Click here to read from the beginning

Poot led us inside the Lifetime Loser's Lounge and down the hallway to our table. I expected to find Neverwas standing at the end of the table like some faux-general waiting to read us the riot act; finding Little E and Tweedledum flanking him on each side was a surprise. As we sat down he announced, "I'm going to be giving you all one last chance to resend your actions in killing the tavern before I shift your alignments for killing an innocent life."

Poot's head tilted to the side as Icarus spoke, "I don't understand why you would shift our alignments?"

Before Neverwas could respond Poot raised his hand up and said, "Hold on. You said we took an innocent life? As in one?"

"Well," Neverwas began, "what I meant to say was that you took innocent lives."

"How many," Poot asked with a smile, "or is this one of those occasions when you're going to start shifting the goalpost so you can declare a minor victory?"

Twedledum stifled a laugh as he sat down, "Tell them, Neverwas, how many innocent lives are we talking about here?"

It doesn't matter, I interrupted, because there were no innocents in that tavern. Neverwas stared at me from across the table with his mouth hanging slightly askew. I tested them by the articles of our faith and they were clearly non-believing sinners.

"So you killed them all," Little E finished for me. "Surely you can't be arguing that slaughtering all those people would be excused by any good faith?"

I stared back at Neverwas as Step answered for me, "We're all Christians in here?"

"Yeah," Neverwas said after a slight pause.

"Christianity is a good faith, right?"

"Yes," Neverwas said with obvious confusion playing across his face.

"Well, if history can be believed, then Christianity has killed untold millions of non-believers because their faith in other gods was a sin."

"Check and mother fucking mate," Tweedledum said as he slapped his hands together. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to get them on that one."

Neverwas shot him a look, "I'm not trying to get them."

Then stop with the empty threats and let's get on with the game, I said.

As the game picked back up it became clear that Little E and Tweedledum were there to help Neverwas deal with us. While they weren't technically secondary Dungeon Masters their opinions carried enough weight with Neverwas that they were able to cause him to rule against our initial plans to escape through the basement. They smiled proudly each time that they were able to find some fault in our logic.

After half an hour of this Poot looked over at me and whispered, "Okay, now how do we deal with three Dungeon Masters?"

The Master Planner slid a note over to Poot and said, "By playing smarter."

The Master Planner, Step, Icarus, and I threw all the dead bodies down into the basement as Little Boy and Poot took the ladder from the library to the roof and made a bridge over to the next building. The basement crew poured liquor over the bodies and everyone else headed upstairs as I started making a show of praying for the poor, misbegotten bastards we'd put to the sword when Neverwas broke in. "Someone's trying to get in the front door."

When it rains it pours, I said as I lit the basement on fire, and yet there's never a drop to drink.

"What?"

I'm heading up the stairs and to the roof.

"Fine," he said with that snide smile playing across his face again. Then the doors broke. I say broke but really it should be: they blew off the fucking hinges as more than two dozen knights charged into the lobby. "They see you."

Oh thank god, I said as I moved my figure up to the roof, I was afraid that we might not have a deus ex machina moment in this game. Poot pulled up the rope we were using to climb to the roof and we raced across the bridge with our fates in the d20s we tossed into the center of the table.

Everyone made it safe across and Neverwas gave an evil grin as he said, "The knights have made it to the roof."

"Good," Little Boy said, "I'm going to toss my torch onto their roof."

"Okay," Neverwas said as Little E slapped his forehead.

"So are they on fire," Little Boy asked.

"What?"

"He drenched the roof in oil," E said into his hands. "The whole damned thing should be on fire."

"That's fine," Neverwas said with a shrug, "they race across the ladder."

"Excellent," Icarus said. "I kick it off the edge of the roof." Neverwas stared at him as Tweedledum guffawed.

"I think we should end it here," Neverwas said quietly.

"That's fine," Step said, "but first we need to know if all the knights die from the fall."

"Yeah, they die," he said.

So did we level?

Feel like you're missing something?

Part 1: Careful What You Wish For

Part 2: The Lines are Drawn

Part 3: Democracy Kills

Part 4: Recipe for Disaster

Part 5: Fire and the Knights

The Hunting Party, Part 4: Recipe for Disaster

Click here to read from the beginning

Five turns came before I was up and each brought with it the death of some nameless non-player character. Clearly we were making the most of our surprise round, and now it was time that I pushed our advantage further and permanently took the night for our side. Neverwas had already begun to rally and was making a big show of rummaging through the miniatures bin and pulling out figure after figure, lining them up alongside the battle mat. "You're up," he absently said to me, "not that it's going to do you a lot of good. Who are you attacking?"

Attacking, I innocently asked. I think you've misunderstood this situation. I moved my figure over to the doors and said, I'm talking.

That got his attention and he stopped pulling from the bin to look at me. "Talking?"

Oh yes, I said with a smile.

People, please forgive the haste with which my companions - all righteous men of faith and honor - did dispatch with these foul agents of dark powers. We were lead to this village by the hand of the One, True God to bring back the light to these blighted lands. It was He who drove our footsteps to these doors and brought recognition to our eyes of the evil that stood amongst you and plotted your downfall into the never ending abyss where the sins of your lives would tear at you for all of eternity.

"The One, True God," Neverwas said with a curious look on his face.

I tilted my head, I hear that some of you have never heard the words of Trithereon, the Blessed Light of Righteousness.

"The fuck is he talking about," Neverwas wondered aloud. "Who the fuck is Trithereon?"

I shook my head and looked at each of the Lively-Roberts Clan in turn. Kinsmen it is seems that the stain of evil has reached deep within these lands turning their hearts and minds away from our Lord. Shall I do them the courtesy or should we offer unto Him that which is His?

Looks of puzzlement met me across the table but Poot caught the look in my eye and with a wave of his hand said, "Courtesy is but part of our Lord's many virtues and far be it for a Son of Trithereon to fail to show it."

A nod of my head in thanks and then I said, Our Lord, the One, True God, Trithereon, is the hammer of righteousness wielded against the sinners and usurpers of this world and the many realms of the heavens above and hells below. It was He who told His faithful to cross the lands of man and bring to bear the fury of their Lord against the invading armies of the humanoids, demi-humans, and savage realms. And it is He who now offers all of you the chance at redemption free of your past sins if you but convert now. 

Neverwas stared at me with a slack jaw and seemed to be lost for what to say next. Too bad, I said, the evil that has choked this land is too strong for them to break. I slid a chair under the door handles to keep it from being opened. Pity us Lord, for we must put them all to the sword. 

"What?" Neverwas practically shouted.

Kill 'em all. No one lives. What came after was an orgy of blood carried out in fifteen minutes. The end result was the death of thirty-six patrons, five guests, and all ten members of the staff. When Little Boy had killed the last living soul we began the grim task of piling the bodies in the basement, looting everything, and preparing for our escape unseen by the forces of evil that so clearly surrounded us.

"Time out," Neverwas called. "I need a minute, so let's call a smoke break. Be back here in fifteen minutes."

We rose out of our chairs and managed to make our way outside where I was able to watch Neverwas call Little E and the World's Greatest Liar over. I could only guess what their animated conversation entailed, but I had no doubts that they would soon have him settled down and moving against us again. Step, I called out, can you do me a favor and go get everyone's character sheets. 

"Why," Step asked as he drew a long drag off his Camel menthol. "Something up?"

I'm not sure, but I have a feeling that we need to share notes. 

He took a look inside and nodded, "Yeah, we might just."

As Step went in I turned to everyone else, We need to come up with a game plan because I don't think he's going to let me run that far again. 

Little Boy laughed, "You think? Jesus Christ, I had no idea where that was going."

Never mind that right now; you guys are going to have to figure out how far you're going to go with me on this fanaticism thing so I know how far I can push Neverwas.

"You were right," Step said as he came outside with the character sheets, "they're in Little E's office trying to figure out how to get back at us for the slaughter. I heard them talking about changing all of our alignments."

"I've got that covered," the Master Planner said as he lit another filterless cigarette. "Everyone just needs to make sure that they've got Trithereon down as their god."

"Why," Icarus asked. "I usually don't pick a god."

"If we're all true believers in the faith then it was a righteous act that can't be viewed as just us killing for the fun of it."

"It's a shield," Little Boy said as he twisted his lip. "fuck why don't we do this more often?"

Because it's hard as fuck all to maintain, I said. I picked Trithereon because I knew there wasn't a lot out there about the guy and that I could mold him to our needs. He's the god of retribution and that's the side of things that I'm playing up. If he tries to call me on it I can always play us off as a splinter church. 

"You've certainly got the crazy down well enough," Poot said with a  laugh.

Had to go dark before he could. 

"Yeah, about that," Icarus said, "how far are you taking this?"

Far as we need it to go, Icarus. 

"Wish we had Biggboy with us," the Master Planner said. "We could really use one more bloody hand to keep him off his game."

Can't help that right now.

"I can push right through anything he throws at us," Step said, "but I'm worried that he's going to try and isolate us."

It's what I would do.

"So how do we keep that from happening," Little Boy asked.

"We've got to ensure that we're always paired up with the right people," the Master Planner answered. "We need to set our marching order so that Icarus is out front, Charlie's in back and Step is in the center. That way our warriors are always near wherever the fucker is going to come at us."

Look, I'm going to multi-class as a cleric when we level. Step do you want to do the same. Two cleric / fighters should be enough to keep the whole group going until we can make him let us bring Biggboy in next session. 

"I'm fine with picking up the extra class," Step said, "but if we're bringing Biggboy in next session do we really need to multi-class?"

"We can't always count on Biggboy showing up," Icarus said. 

"I keep forgetting about that," Step said as we all got quiet thinking about Biggboy. "I'll multi-class too."

"Heads up," Poot said, "Neverwas is coming."

We all turned and watched him push the glass door all the way open. "Enough smoking. Time for you guys to get back at it."

"Bet your ass," Poot said as he threw his cigarette down and led us back in.

Click here to read Part 5: Fire and the Knights

Feeling like you're missing something?
Part 1: Careful What You Wish For

Part 2: The Lines are Drawn

Part 3: Democracy Kills

Part 4: Recipe for Disaster

Part 5: Fire and the Knights

The Hunting Party, Part 3: Democracy Kills

Click here to read from the beginning

Jimmy Bob, I said, reckon you could figure out where we are before we're set upon by wolves and big ass ravens pluck our fucking eyes out?

"I imagine," Poot said, "that we're standing outside a village peopled with woe begotten shit farmers."

"Are you not going to ask me what you know," Neverwas asked.

"I could," Poot said with a thoughtful look, "but I'm afraid that my asking you such questions would only encourage your delusions of grandeur." I can only guess what Neverwas had in mind to say because Poot rolled with a result of 22. "What does my feeble bardish knowledge provide me with on this out of the way locale?"

"You don't recognize it," Neverwas replied with a coy smile.

"I told you that it would only encourage you further," Poot said, "and now I'm not going to feel bad about anything that happens after this."

"As though you guys have a conscience when it comes to these games," Neverwas began the familiar lecture. "If you would consider the implications of your actions beyond the immediate gratifi-"

"Look," the Master Planner broke in, "if we wanted to have a lecture on morality we damned sure wouldn't be taking it from a recidivist and moral reprobate."

"I'll have you know that I'm a deacon in my church," Neverwas said with as much dignity as he could muster.

"I'm sure the Lord must be very proud of you," Icarus said, "but if you don't mind I'd like to know if anything is approaching us. It's my axe, you see, it thirsts for blood." The whole table turned toward Icarus as he began to mime licking his axe.

"You're Chaotic Good," Neverwas said with a touch of exasperation in his voice.

"I'm also a barbarian."

Family, I said, it seems that Jim-Jim has gone too long without killing something and that his homicidal urges are beginning to take over. Let us explore the town before us and find some trouble to sate his appetite for destruction.

"You make your way into the town and after asking a few of the local peasantry where you might find a decent place to rest you're directed to the Ghostly Lady," Neverwas dryly read from his notebook.

Cousins, brothers, did one of you knob-gobblers decide that we should take our rest before we let Jim-Jim slit some evil fuck's throat when I wasn't looking and drag me here against my will?

"I don't remember making the choice," Little Boy said.

"Smells of magic and heavy handed Dungeon Mastering to me," Step said as he leaned forward in his chair. "Bob Jim Lively, veteran of more than a dozen campaigns along the disputed boarders -"

"What disputed boarders," Neverwas asked.

"All of them," Step said with a tone that brooked no argument. "But like I was saying, Bob Jim Lively is a veteran of a dozen tours and he loosens his sword and casts a weary gaze about the inn."

"Jim Bob Lively," Little Boy said, "has taken notice of his older brother's weary gaze and has begun to move towards the shadows in an effort to hide away from the view of any who might be watching him."

"The bar is crowded with patrons," Neverwas confusedly answered, "there's no way you can hide."

"Then Jim Bob slides under the table and uses the space to make himself small and forgetable," Little Boy countered. 

"Good plan," Icarus said, "Jim-Jim, for his part, is going to set his axe on the table in easy reach and look for anyone giving him the 'eye.' He counts anyone foolish enough to meet his gaze as having done so."

"Bobby Jim, Master of Illusion and Manual Manipulation," the Master Planner announced, "is checking the bar for any magical residue and looking over each of his family members for any signs of compulsion magic or signs that some illusion has been cast on us."

"Guys," Neverwas said, "I think you're taking this too far. I was just trying to move the story along."

The story has moved along, I said, and we're reacting to things that have moved beyond our understanding for the Lively-Roberts Clan takes nothing for granted and destroys what we don't understand. 

"Jesus," Neverwas said as he ran his hand across his forehead.

Never mind him right now. I'm looking for anyone who seems to be taking exception to our behavior.

"The whole lobby full of patrons seem to be giving you all a wide breath."

It's clear that they know how we arrived here, I said looking about the table.

"Of course they do," Neverwas said, "they watched -"

We attack. 

"No, you don't," Neverwas practically shouted. "You're all taking this the wrong way."

"Are you telling us that we weren't given a choice in how our characters were allowed to behave and that you're now doing so for the second time in less than twenty minutes," Poot asked. "That's a bad precedent to be setting for a game that's supposed to be the most epic fucking thing anyone's ever played."

"Especially for a man who wants to pretend that he's the center of the role-playing universe," the Master Planner added. 

"Is that what he was saying out there," Little Boy asked. "I was too busying trying to get that girl wearing the dog collar's number to really pay attention to him."

"I didn't say I was the center of the role-playing universe," Neverwas scrambled. "I mearly stated that if one wants to play the game correctly that not only do you have to develop a story but you have to allow your players the freedom to make their own decisions."

Interesting that when your theories meet the game that things go off the rails. 

"Look," Neverwas said as he placed his hands on the table, "perhaps I was a bit hasty in forcing you all along the storyline of this particular game. But if you'll just work with me you'll see that things will come out better in the end."

Come climb into my web for tea said the spider to the fly.

"What?"

Don't worry about it. I'll put it to a vote of the table. If you all want to allow Neverwas to force our actions then I'll abide it with disgust, but I'll go with it all the same. Or we can kill the whole bar and set it on fire since clearly the devil is at work here. 

"Open ballot or secret," Poot asked.

Tradition holds that we do it in the open. Everyone fine with that?

"I'm not," Neverwas said, "there shouldn't have to be a vote."

Yes, yes there does. You want us to take back our declared actions and to pretend like none of this ever happened so that the storyline you've plotted out in that notebook of yours comes to pass just like you wrote it. Only the game doesn't work like that. Our characters are ours and their decisions come from us - not from a script. 

"I get that," Neverwas said with his hands up, "but you guys took this the wrong way."

"We took it the only way we could," Icarus said. "I say we vote in the open."

I looked about the table and asked, Any objections to a vote in the open. None came so I called the measure. The question has come before the table: do we resend our actions and take the party back to the top of the hillside where we can then control our own destinies going forward or do we launch a bloody attack against a tavern filled with the Devil's children and set the town to the torch?

Poot counted the results, "Six for burning the town and slaughtering the vile inhabitants of this accursed village and one for going back to the top of the hill. The town burns."

"You guys are going to regret this," Neverwas said with a warning tone, "I'll give you one last opportunity to pull back."

"I rolled a natural 20 for my first attack," Poot said as way of our reply. 

Click here to read Part 4: Recipe for Disaster

Feel like you're missing something?

Part1: Careful What You Wish For

Part 2: The Lines are Drawn

Part 3: Democracy Kills

Part 4: Recipe for Disaster

Part 5: Fire and the Knights

The Hunting Party, Part 2: The Lines are Drawn

Click here to read from the beginning

"Look at that bullshit," Poot said as we pulled into the Lifetime Loser Lounge parking lot. I followed his gaze and found Neverwas leading a revival out front.   He was standing in the center of a dozen or so teenagers who were pressing in close and nodding their heads to his pronouncements on the 'right' way to play Dungeons and Dragons and Magic the Gathering. They were so enthusiastic in their adoration for him that I almost felt bad as Poot announced, "You know this means we have to take that fucker down a notch."

"Let us go do God's work then," the Master Planner replied as he crossed himself.  They joined the crowd and soon began to work their magic, turning the mood of the congregation against Neverwas with each passing moment. Normally I would have joined in the fun but a phone call from one of my bosses had me sitting on the bench out front and putting out fires on my day off. I was too involved in the minor emergencies to notice that Short Stack had joined me on the bench. She was a sweet girl who could be so quiet that you'd forget she was there. As I hung up the phone she cleared her throat and said, "What's going on over there?"

Neverwas is doing his messiah shtick again.

"What a prick," she said with a giggle. I smiled as she scooted closer to me and whispered, "So when are you going to ask me out."

I'm not, darling, I whispered back, you're too young.

"You know you're going to keep telling me no and I'm going to start throwing myself at someone else." I slid my arm about her shoulders and listened to the revival turn sour as the Master Planner started swinging his metaphorical cock about the crowd bruising egos as he went; while Poot began loudly performing excommunications on all the faithful. "Why is it that you guys are always at the center of these sort of things?"

We're the favored of God. Spit from the heavens fully formed and filled with bellies fed on the tears of a thousand lamenting women and the broken dreams of fools. 

We sat there on the bench in silence for a bit while she snuggled into my shoulder. Her hair smelled like Autumn and for a brief moment I actually wished that I had asked her out; but it was just a moment that passed like all the temptations in life. "I've got to go to work," she sighed. "How late will you guys be playing tonight?"

No telling. We're coming into this game with evil intent and hate in our hearts.

That brought a smile out, "Do you mind if I come by after work and watch?"

If you'd like to. She kissed me on the cheek. You shouldn't have done that, I whispered.

"I know," she cooed in my ear and left me behind. 

"You know," Poot boomed, "if I didn't know better I'd swear that girl wants you."

"It's easy to be fooled," the Master Planner replied, "but rest assured that Charlie will soon break her of that."

You guys done with Neverwas so soon?

"We were done five minutes ago," Poot said as he leapt onto the bench and laid his head against my shoulder, batting his eyes at me. "But you were too busy fooling with Short Stack to notice. Tell me."

What?

"Am I as pretty as your French girls?"

Get the fuck off me.

"Neverwas is inside with everyone else and he's bitching about you wasting his precious time with some sandy-blonde whore," Poot said.

Did he call her a whore?

"Not directly," the Master Planner replied, "you know he's too afraid of what will happen to him if he calls her that directly. Instead he's doing his veiled thing where he implies his insults so that we don't have a clear-cut reason to throw him down a flight of stairs."

Let's go break this dumb fuck.

We walked inside, down the hallway, and into the last room. Little Boy and Step were in a quiet conversation with their heads together while Icarus had busied himself with a marker. "It's about time you made it in," Neverwas loudly proclaimed, "I was about to cancel the game entirely on your account."

Don't put yourself out. What's the set up?

"Straight to the point then," Neverwas said as he pulled the bill of his DuPont ball cap over his eyes. "Good to see you all being serious for once. Pass your character sheets up and I'll make sure everyone has complied with the character generation rules."

We passed up our sheets and he began looking over them. "Nice," he said, "it looks like everyone is going to be stretching their limbs and trying something new." Then he got to my character sheet, "Charlie, you're going to be playing a paladin?"

That's the plan.

"I don't think so. Make something else."

The whole table looked up at him and exploded in a cacophony of protests while Neverwas stood there smiling at me from across the way, waiting for me to rise to the bait. When at last everyone else quieted down I said, Just why the fuck can't I play a paladin?

"Because you're not capable of playing Lawful let alone playing Good. Pick something else."

It was a challenge and I always rise to the challenge. Fine, I said, I'll play a fighter. My name is James Roberts but you'll remember me as Jim.

"Fuck," Icarus whispered, "this is going bad quick."

The Master Planner looked from Neverwas to me and announced, "My wizard's name is Bobby Jim Lively and I'm his cousin, twice removed but loved like a brother."

"My bard is Jimmy Bob Roberts and I'm the brother he loves like a fourth cousin," Poot said. 

"I'm Jim Bob Lively," Little Boy said, "first cousin and I grew up next door to Jim. We've been close all our lives."

"I'm Bob Jim Lively, " Step declared, "my mother and Jim's father fooled around and I'm his bastard brother. He treats me like I'm legit though, so we're tight."

"Fuck me," Icarus whispered, "we're all going to die." Then he looked Neverwas in the eye and said, "I guess that makes me Jim-Jim Roberts the Destroyer."

Neverwas' jaw slacked and he stared about the table going from face to face, but avoiding mine. "You guys really want to go down this road? This game's serious!"

We're dead serious, I said. So kick us off.

"Fine," he said with a huff, "if you guys want to make this a joke th-"

There are no jokes left in us, I interrupted.

Neverwas started chewing on his beard and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He knew that a line had been crossed and that I had just taken the first step towards something. He just didn't know what I was getting ready to do, but Icarus did. I could see that he wanted to ask why hearing the name Jim come from my lips had gotten Icraus' attitude to change. It played across his face; the doubt and worry that what would come next would be too much for him to handle. Then a decision was reached and he said, "You all have been traveling for days heading to the city when a thick mist came up on you in the night. The cloying mist clung to you and made your clothing stick to your bodies and your hair matted down. For what seemed like innumerable days you wandered until at last you found a road and made your way clear. The world that greets you on the other side is like a nightmare given life. The trees are bent and gnarled; the buildings look like something out of an old Transylvanian horror flick; and off over a low rise sits a castle of Gothic proportions. 

"You can see some peasants meandering about in the center of town though it's hard to tell what's happening from your vantage point. A large raven sits on the high branch of a dead elm ahead, and somewhere in the distance you can hear the mournful howl of a wolf." He looked at me then and said, "What do you guys do?"

Click here to read Part 3: Democracy Kills

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Part 1: Careful What You Wish For

Part 2: The Lines are Drawn

Part 3: Democracy Kills

Part 4: Recipe for Disaster

Part 5: Fire and the Knights

The Hunting Party, Part 1: Careful What You Wish For

What do you mean he's running a Halloween special? Does he not realize this is June?

Poot just shrugged as he lit a cigarette, "I told him that."

And?

"He says that's why it'll be so fucking epic that people will be talking about it for the next decade. It's his place in history."

Seriously? This is why we need to expand our pool of friends.

Poot laughed and said, "Neverwas told me you wouldn't be willing to roll with us on this one."

You're only saying that because you think it's going to get me to come along, I said as I poured a glass of whine. Why not? Okay, who else is going down this rabbit hole with us?

"Little Boy is rolling a cleric," Poot said as he began to count everyone off on his fingers, "Step is a rogue. I'm going to be a gnome wizard, and Icarus says he's going to be a druid."

So it's just me that you're waiting on?

"Neverwas claims that he's thinking about letting the Master Planner come in," Poot said as he let loose a long sigh. "It's like he thinks that by keeping the Master Planner waiting that he's got some power over him."

Fuck that guy, I said with as much gusto as I normally saved for Sartre. Tell the prick M.P. is in and I've already called him to let him know. 

"He's going to be pissed you made the call," Poot said with a smile. "I think I'll tell him that I made the decision to take some of the heat."

Why would you want to do that?

"Because I like pissing on him from time to time - it pleases me."

Fair enough, I said as I dialed the Master Planner and started getting everyone together for a pre-game meal at the China Hut for a strategy session. I worked the phones while Poot explained that we had already brought in the Master Planner. By the time I was finished setting up the meeting and caught up with Poot's end of the conversation I found him telling Neverwas that he was a load his mother should have swallowed.

Things going well, I asked as Poot continued pacing with a trail of smoke following his route. 

"Yeah," Poot said with a wink as he hung up the phone, "he tried to get all 'this is my game and you have no right' so I had to put him in his place."

I feel like tonight's game is going to go well now.

"Me too," he said. "Let's get on the road or we're going to be late."

We climbed into Poot's car and he started telling me about the setup to the game. "According to Neverwas we're going to be starting in this old village with these Germanic peasants who are really superstitious."

It's a dark and stormy night, I intoned.

"Yeah, it sounds like he's going for a heavy handed Ravenloft to me, but you know him."

You guys just don't understand how to properly role-play, I said in a mock of Neverwas' voice. If you'd just take long enough to understand how the characters connect to the world then you'd get more out of the game!

"Full on," Poot said. "He even hit me with, 'Now you guys have to be serious about this one.'"

Are you shitting me?

"No."

This is definitely going to go well.

We pulled into the China Hut, grabbed some plates, and joined the rest of the group at the table. Gentlemen, I said solemnly, we're officially fucked tonight. He's got a god damned story he's going to tell and we're to be actors in this little drama.

"Are you fucking serious," Little Boy said as he threw his fork down. "I told him that doing that shit only pisses everyone off."

"He's not," Icarus said, "I heard him telling Little E that this storyline he was going to take us down would change our lives."

"Fuck me," Poot sighed, "so do we back out of this suck fest before it starts or?"

"Or we hit him where it hurts," the Master Planner said. "Listen, we all know that he's got this whole thing plotted out in that black notebook of his."

"You mean his novel," Little Boy asked.

Yeah.

"Has he ever let you read that thing," Icarus asked.

No.

"Don't take him up on the offer," the Master Planner answered. "Look, the book is going to have a lot of his script in it and he's going to be reading directly from it."

Are you sure? He doesn't normally read during these things.

"It's coming," Poot said, "you've just never been in one of his 'story driven' games before."

So what are you suggesting, Master Planner, that we steal the book?

"Absolutely."

The table got silent for a moment as we all slowly got grins on our faces. He's going to get mad.

"Apocalyptic more like," Poot giggled.

"Before we do this does anyone want out," the Master Planner asked as he looked about the table, "because once this goes down he's going to be on the war path with all of us."

"I'm down," Poot said as Step and Icarus nodded their willingness.

"I want in too," Little Boy said, "but I don't want to be the one left holding the notebook when everything is said and done."

I'll take the fucking book, I said, and I'll be the one who gets it back to him when everything is over.  

"How are you going to do that without letting him know it was you," Poot asked.

Don't worry about that. So what's our plan?

"You know that he's going to want to give us that creepy feeling only it's not going to work," the Master Planner said.

"Because he's going to be reading from the fucking book," Poot interrupted.

"Until we take the damned thing from him," Little Boy finished. 

"Right," the Master Planner said. "So we've got to lull him into thinking that everything is going to plan. That means that we have to react just like how he expects us to. That means playing the time period in how you talk, faking fear at the right times, and no killing NPCs." 

That last part came with a look directly at me and Poot. In the last four campaigns Neverwas had run Poot and I had killed 9 out of every 10 NPCs we met. The ones we didn't kill we used for monster bait and trap testers; it infuriated Neverwas. Personally I thought it was a brilliant strategy.

"So you're saying that we're going to be bored for the first few sessions," Poot said.

"Try just the first one," the Master Planner countered. "We snatch his book at the end of the night after he drops everything off at his truck and comes back to shoot the shit with us."

Who's grabbing it?

"I can do it," Step said, "but it's going to be pretty obvious that it was me."

"No," the Master Planner said, "let me handle the book."

We sat quietly for a few moments, each of us contemplating the task ahead of us, before I spoke up. That means we need to decide how we're going to build the party. Any thoughts?

"He's expecting me to play a cleric and Step to play the rogue," Little Boy said, "so I'm thinking that we shouldn't."

"What are you thinking," Poot asked.

"I think we should flip the script entirely and throw him off his plan early."

Now you've got my attention.

"I'll play the rogue since I haven't played one under him before. Step?"

"He's never seen me play a fighter. So I'll roll one of those."

"Icarus," Little Boy said, "what sort of crazy bullshit are you bringing?"

"I was going to play a druid, but I'm thinking that I need to switch it up too," Icarus said as he rubbed his chin - always a sign of fun times ahead. "I'll bring a barbarian to the party. He's seen me play one before but he's never figured out how to handle me as one."

"I know he thinks I'll be coming as the wizard," Poot mused, "so I'll come as a bard."

What about you Master Planner?

"I'll roll a wizard. Illusionist?" he said with a shrug, "You?"

I'm coming as a paladin, I said and they all stared at me. What?

"Are you sure you can pull that off," Poot asked me with far too much doubt in his voice. "You know he thinks of Lawful Good as Stupid Good right?"

Yeah.

"Charlie," the Master Planner said, "you know that means you can't do your normal game plan, right? No murdering NPCs for no reason. No screwing everything that walks. No stealing. None of it."

Look, we all agree that we need to flip the script on him so that he'll be off his game. Nothing will do that faster than me playing a Lawful Good paladin. 

The Master Planner smiled and gave me a nod, "Well boys, if Charlie playing a paladin doesn't throw him off his game I don't know what will. Let's load up and go kick his ass."

Click here to read Part 2: The Lines are Drawn

Feel like you're missing something?
Part 1: Careful What You Wish For
Part 2: The Lines are Drawn
Part 3: Democracy Kills
Part 4: Recipe for Disaster
Part 5: Fire and the Knights

This Will End Well Part 2: Murder Hobos Attacking the Town

Click here to read from the beginning.

A little bit of hand waving had them heading north to Baldur's Gate looking for loose women, drunken debauchery, and gambling that would make Bugsy Siegel proud. They passed under the Troll Bridge and paid it no mind. They wandered through the Low City and fucked not with one person. Then they found the old man (there's always an old man in every role-playing game).

"Hey, you, old man," Tesla called.

Eh?

"Do you know of anywhere to gamble in this place?"

Ah, I said in a voice that wouldn't warble no matter how hard I tried, if you head into the city proper and go to Picard St you'll find the Purple Worm Casino and Bordello. 

"Wait, did you just say it was the Purple Worm Casino?"

And Bordello.

"Why do they call it the Purple Worm?"

Because it was built inside the corpse of a juvenile Purple Worm. Old Bal -

"Shit," he said with his jaw hanging low, "that's three of my favorite things: hookers, gambling, and dead purple things! See you the fuck later old dude. I've got whores and gambling to do!"

They made their way inside the main gates and paused at a Chinese Food Cart while some politician rambled on in the square about the glory of Baldur's Gate. Nothing was said that held their interest so after buying some discounted Peking Duck that was about to be thrown away they started pressing through the crowd towards Picard St. and the Purple Worm Casino and Bordello. 

It was then that all hell broke loose.

Four big bastards wearing bondage gear and wielding meat cleavers in each hand started hacking down people right in front of them. They spoke in a language strange that burned the listener's ears and drove lesser people to madness. 

"I call them all," Tesla boomed as he jumped into the fray with the sort of reckless abandon that had me liking the hell out of him. He rolled well and quickly dropped the first berserker.

"Four on three hardly seems like a challenge for us," New Boy said to me as he missed his attack.

I started rolling my d20 and said, That's because you didn't realize you'd been shot twice.

"What?"

You've been shot twice, I repeated. There are archers up on the balcony shooting down in the crowd and after your attack two of them fired into your side. You're bleeding, Holmes, and down six points.

"See," Icarus said as he healed Tesla, "that's why you don't talk shit to the Dungeon Master."

The politician jumped off the stage with a long sword in one hand and sheild in the other to confront the berserkers charging the stage. Which was when New Boy added, "See, he's giving us an NPC to help. This isn't a challenge."

I smiled at him as I introduced another big bastard, this one with a black axe that dripped a nasty looking liquid that boiled the stone where it dripped. He attacked their would-be ally while the archers continued to rain arrows down on them from above. 

"I love when these campaigns of yours get bloody," Icarus whispered to me. "Especially when the new players think it's what they've said that brought the trouble."

You know me, always trying to give the people what they want. 

Feel like you've missed something?

This Will End Well Part 1: Bad Ideas and Whispered Threats

This Will End Well Part 2: Murder Hobos Attacking the Town

This Will End Well Part 1: Bad Ideas and Whispered Threats

"I just don't get why it has to be on a spaceship," Poot's voice crackled through the three hundred miles of piss poor cell reception. "I mean you're asking them to play fantasy characters but you're starting out in space."

Yeah.

"Then what?"

I'm going to blow up the damned spaceship!

"So they're going to fall to earth in an escape pod."

Call it a breach pod.

"No. They're falling to earth in an escape pod."

Faerun. I'm doing this by the book.

"What fucking book has a spaceship getting attacked and it's crew hurtling down to the planet while you rub your hands and laugh manically?"

The Book of Akins.

"Good book," he said after a pause. "I still wouldn't do it. You're testing out a new system and you haven't fully got a handle on the way combat works."

What's to get a handle on? Roll a d20, check against AC, hit if equal or better.

"You're doing it again."

What?

"You're being a glib asshole and you know what happens when you get like this before the game starts."

That's why I called, I said as a pause in the conversation took over. I've got a new player and New Boy's coming along for the ride.

"Who's the new player?"

Tesla.

"If you go with the spaceship you'd best be prepared for a wipe in the first ten minutes then. Tesla isn't going to leave without a laser gun and a robot."

Icarus will be there too.

"Complete wipe."

Okay then. It looks like I'm going to start them south of Baldur's Gate and we'll see where they go from there, I said as I pulled into Icarus' drive. I'm here Poot. I've got to go.

"Good luck."

Tesla, Icarus, and New Boy got busy making characters once I came in while I busied myself looking through Icarus' Dungeons & Dragons books. I always forget how many Third Edition books were made until I run into a collection like Icarus'. There are books on dragons of every imaginable stripe; volumes on devils, demons, and the undead; five monster books filled with variations on themes; twenty or so books with rule variations and expansions; two Player Handbooks and Dungeon Master's Guides - presumably without rehashing what the previous version said; and massive, linear adventures that were bitched about on the internet when they were released and are slowly growing in popularity as people give them a second look now that the system's been dead nearly seven years. I won't lie to you, I had some of them, but Icarus' collection dwarfed mine completely. 

"Charlie," New Boy called me from the dinning room table, "can you give me a hand for a minute?"

I walked over and we worked his character into a passable fashion that wouldn't embarrass either of us (I hoped) and were quickly joined by Icarus and Tesla. Icarus would be playing Selin the elven Cleric of Apolo ('cause why the fuck not?) while Tesla would be playing Kaz the human Fighter of badassery. That left New Boy with his dwarven wizard. 

"I'm here to kill something and take it's shit," Tesla said with a smile.

A man after my own heart, I said and launched into the set up. We were going to be playing in the tiny town of Philander on the Sword Coast of Faerun. There were about three hundred or so people living there and they had been enjoying what passed for drunken debauchery in this community until their coin had run low and decisions had to be made.

"Well since I don't know anybody I'll be at the bar drinking and looking for work," Tesla began. 

Nope. I'm not doing this bullshit where you guys pretend not to know each other for the first hour I'm here running because you want to dick about. I've driven too far to waste my time watching you guys jerk off with nothing to show for it.

"Fair enough," he said with a smile. "What's going on in the bar?"

There are two prostitutes on the upper floor smoking and talking amongst themselves: Bea and Alice the One Eye.

"Why's she called Alice the One Eye," New Boy interrupted. 

Because she's only got one eye. 

"Oh."

There also the bartender, Joe, who's busy cleaning the counter. Other than that you cats are the only ones here. 

"Who else is in the bar," New Boy asked. 

I stared at him for a full minute while Icarus laughed at him and Tesla whispered death threats in his ear. Two hookers on the upper deck, the bartender, and the three of you. 

"So no one else is here?"

I was suddenly very glad that Biggboy, Step-up, and Cuz weren't able to make it tonight. To the north you have Baldur's Gate and to the south you have Waterdeep. To the east you have the interior of the continent and no telling how long before you make it to the next city. 

"I'm going west," Tesla announced after he rolled a dice.

Into the sea?

"The sea? No, no, no, no. Who said anything about going west into the sea? I said I'm going north to Baldur's Gate."

This is going to be one of those nights, I said to Icarus, isn't it?

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

Right, I've walked into a bag of dicks. Well, let's get this show rolling. 

Feel like you've missed something?

This Will End Well Part 1: Bad Ideas and Whispered Threats

This Will End Well Part 2: Murder Hobos Attacking the Town