The Gamers: Dorkness Rising (The Novel) Read online

  “I put all her other feats in speed and precision,” Joanna explained. “That’s why intelligence is much more important than strength.”

  “They would be…” Cass intoned, in that annoying talking-to-a-child voice again. “If you were a wizard. But you’re not. You’re a fighter. A fighter with a giant ‘kill me’ sign on her back.”

  “With her charisma, she should be able to talk her way out of most fights” she explained with confident pride. The guys looked blankly back at her. Gary attempted to speak, but no words came out. He gaped, his mouth working like a goldfish.

  “What?” Joanna asked. “Negotiating isn’t your style?”

  “Not exactly, no.” Annoyance fought with the desire to laugh as Leo worked to keep the derision out of his voice. Thankfully, Cass picked it up for him.

  “Our philosophy is, beat it until it stops moving.”

  “And then shoot it,” Leo finished.

  “And then step on its nads!” Gary added.

  “Calm down, Gary” Cass said dismissively, then turned his attention to Joanna, picking up her character sheet. “If you play this character, you are going to die.”

  “I spent two hours on this character, and I’m going to play her, ok?” Even Cass understood that it wasn’t a question.

  “OK,” Cass replied as Joanna snatched the sheet out of his hand. “And when you die, you can play bikini babe.”

  “Fine,” Joanna muttered.

  “Why’d you two break up again?” Gary asked curiously.

  Lodge moved quickly to cut him off. “Gary! Character.”

  “I’m a wild mage…” Gary told Lodge, then turned to face Leo. “WILD!!” He exclaimed. “But you losers can call me ‘sorceress.’ ”

  Leo stared at him.

  “Yes, that’s right” Gary said, leaning back in his chair, “I’m playing a chick.” Gary rubbed his hands in circles on his t-shirt, fondling his imaginary breasts.

  Lodge stifled a moan, wondering which would be more painful – Gary’s caricature of how a girl would behave, or Gary constantly forgetting that he was playing a female at all.

  “Dude, are you hot?” Leo asked eagerly. So much for Cass’s comments on Leo’s sexuality, thought Joanna as Lodge winced behind his GM screen.

  “Seventeen charisma!” Gary proclaimed triumphantly.

  “Do you want to have sex?”

  “Totally!”

  “Awesome! I seduce him! Her.” He announced to Lodge. Leo rolled a die. When it came to a stop, he and Gary both cheered loudly. “Yeah!” Leo celebrated. “Oh, I could totally seduce any homophobe with that roll!!”

  “We haven’t started yet.” Lodge pointed out, casting a mortified glance in Joanna’s direction. “You guys haven’t met.”

  “Yeah... all right,” Leo conceded. “Bone ya later,” he assured Gary.

  “I’ll be waiting, man-meat!” Gary promised.

  “After we’ve started. Please.” Lodge entreated. “Leo, I assume you’re playing a fighter again?”

  “Actually,” Leo corrected, “I’m going as a bard.”

  “Really?” Lodge looked at Leo, intrigued. “That’s a bit of a jump for you. You’ve only played fighters before…” he pointed out skeptically.

  “How different can they be?” Gary raised his eyebrows as Lodge gaped, speechless. Cass stepped into the gap.

  “I’m playing a monk.” He held out his character sheet to Lodge, who began, instinctively to reach for it, then stopped, realizing what he had just heard.

  A monk? Joanna wondered if she had heard correctly. “What’s he gonna do, copy manuscripts?” she asked with a giggle.

  “Think kung fu monk, Grasshopper,” Leo clarified.

  “Oh.” OK – that made more sense. Sort of. She looked at Lodge. “That doesn’t seem to fit, does it?”

  Kevin didn’t look at her when he answered. He was too busy glaring at Cass. “No, it doesn’t. I told you guys that there are no monks in my world.” Cass shook the character sheet, insisting that Lodge accept it.

  “No monks,” Joanna echoed, enjoying seeing Mister Know-It-All on the other end of the skewer.

  “I told you” Cass replied in a smug tone that he knew Lodge would find condescending, “that if we’re playing by 3rd edition rules, I can play any basic character class. And monk…” Cass picked up his leather bound Special Edition Player’s Handbook. He had been ready for this fight, and the ribbon bookmark marked the page he needed. He opened it, and turned it around to face lodge with a high pitched Bruce Lee-style ‘wwwwwaaaaa!’ “…is a basic character class.”

  Lodge attempted to sound patient as he explained. “I based my world on a fantasized western medieval period. There were no - ‘wwwwwaaaaa!’ - kung fu monks in Western Europe!”

  “If Jo can play any character she wants,” Cass argued, “I can play any character I want. I’m asking to play a basic character class, and you’re blocking me. You’re breaking the rules. Again. I play a monk, or I don’t play.” Cass indicated the rest of the group. “And they don’t play.”

  “I play.” Joanna wasn’t about to let Cass speak for her. Besides, he was being a jerk.

  “No, you don’t,” Cass corrected.

  The nerve of him! Joanna looked at Lodge. “Yes, I do.” Was gaming always this tense?

  Just then, Gary picked up a funny looking little dinosaur– where had he got that?! – travelled it through the air between the two men in an imitation of something Joanna was pretty sure she had seen on TV once….

  “Fine,” Lodge conceded. “You can play a monk, but he’s got to fit the world. He’s got to be a western monk.” Lodge made a buzzing sound and mimicked shaving his head in the style of a European tonsured monk. “Occidental. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Now is there anything else?”

  “No, No, That’s it.”

  “All right.” Fine, thought Lodge. Whatever. If we can just get to the adventure.

  “Oh,” Cass said, as though just remembering something. “I’m also playing an elf.”

  Lodge fumed, his face reddening. “What? No, you’re not!”

  “Yes,” Cass replied. “I am.”

  “I told you guys,” Lodge all but shouted apoplectically, “this is an all human campaign. There are no elves in my world!”

  “And I told you that elf is a basic character race. And since we’re playing by the game rules…”

  “Can’t hear you – the adventure’s starting!” Lodge talked over Cass in an attempt to drown him out. Cass continued speaking. “Adventure!” Lodge repeated, and began loudly singing what Joanna soon realized was a play on an old pop song.

  “When a monster comes along, you must stab it! When you face the evil throng…” Cass continued to argue. Joanna put her hand over his mouth.

  Clearly this song was an old standby in this group, Joanna realized as Gary joined in.

  “You must stab it!” Gary and Lodge sang together. “You know your sword is nice and long - why don’t you stab it? Stab it! In the neck! You should make - a Dex check! Five foot forward! Remove its head! Decapitate!” Leo joined in. “And stab it dead!”

  Joanna smiled – maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all….

  Chapter 6: The Adventure Begins

  “We begin in the throne room, where the three of you have answered a summons to the king….”

  The resplendent warrior Daphne, renowned bard Flynn the Fine, and the unpredictable mage called only Luster stood respectfully before the throne as a herald announced, “His Royal Majesty, King Erasmus the Randomly Biased!” The would-be heroes bowed, and the King looked each of them briefly in the eyes as he began to speak.

  “There is a great evil in our land: the vile necromancer Mort Kemnon. Daily, his power grows stronger. And yet it appears as if our goddess has forsaken us, for she answers not our prayers.”

  Flynn gazed lustfully at the scantily-clad mage. He’d certainly lo
ok forward to knowing her better. The warrior wasn’t bad-looking, but she looked a little prissy – she had that ‘Lawful Good’ aura going. His attention returned to the mage.

  “Now can I seduce her?” Leo whined.

  “In the middle of the throne room?!” asked Lodge in amazement.

  “Why not? We’ve started.” Well, he had rolled successfully, hadn’t he?

  The bard handed his mandolin to the astonished Daphne. He made eye contact with the mage, then snapped his fingers three times – first at himself, next at her, and finally at a small wooden half-wall designed to separate observers from those attending audiences with the King. The mage leapt eagerly into his arms and they ran off to the somewhat-concealed location.

  “Mort Kemnon has discovered an evil artifact” the King continued, ignoring them. “An accursed item known as the Mask of Death. Find him and kill him. Bring me that Mask, so that its evil may not spread across our land.” Daphne tried not to look over her shoulder at Flynn and Luster, mostly succeeding in listening courteously to the King.

  “Floppenwrist!” the King called, “The Staff!”

  The herald stepped forward, offering Daphne a carved wooden pole wrapped in thread. She set Flynn’s mandolin down so that she could accept the rod from the Herald, and eyed the carved wood curiously.

  “I present to you this Staff of Resurrection. If one of your party should fall during the quest, it need not be their end.” Daphne studied the staff respectfully.

  “How many charges does it have?” asked Cass.

  “Seven” Lodge informed him.

  “Go forth, noble heroes!” the King commanded. “May Therin light your way!”

  The King glared impatiently, trying hard to look regal while the bard and mage returned to flank Daphne. Flynn tugged his tunic back into place as he retrieved his mandolin.

  “Go forth, noble heroes!” the King repeated. “May Therin light your way!” This time, Daphne led them from the room and headed for the city gates. Mort Kemnon certainly wouldn’t be found here in Whitetower, and Daphne had no desire to let these two find an inn. Or a pub. Or worse...

  * * * *

  The city is near to bursting with a flood of refugees. You hear mutters of “Mort Kemnon” as they shuffle towards the safety of the castle.

  Peasants wandered in and out of the town gate, a sturdy wooden structure supported by strong stone towers. Damn peasants are everywhere, Luster thought, shoving two more out of her path. As they exited the gate, a farmer hawked vegetables to passersby. “Corn! Celery! Oranges! Fresh bread! Onions! Cabbages!” he cried to all who would listen. Then that naïve twit Daphne made eye contact with him. “The finest cabbages in the land!” he said, directly to her.

  * * * *

  “I want to talk to the farmer” Joanna said.

  “Why?” asked a dumbfounded Leo.

  “Well, if he’s from out of town, he might be able to tell us where the evil wizard is.”

  “That’s a great idea” Cass said to Joanna.

  “Thanks!” she replied, brightening.

  “Except that it sucks.” Joanna’s smile faded. “There is no way that he’d know where Mort Kemnon is.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a random NPC.”

  “And as we all know,” Lodge added, clearly annoyed, “my NPCs are cardboard cutouts.”

  Joanna looked around questioningly. “NPC?”

  Cass cleared his throat and explained in that annoyingly patient tone of voice, “non-player character.”

  “Oh, right. Which, of course, I’m supposed to know” snapped Joanna. I hate it when he talks to me like I’m a child!

  “Don’t worry about it.” Leo tried to be reassuring. “You don’t need anything from him. We know where we’re going.”

  “No, you don’t,” Lodge spat, still annoyed.

  “We’ve done the adventure,” each of the three guys stabbed two fingers in the air as Leo spoke. “Twice before. We need to go to the mountains.”

  “Your characters don’t know where to go.” For God’s sake – for such smart people, sometimes these guys were the biggest morons! Did they not realize that Flynn and Luster were entirely new characters, who wouldn’t know anything about their prior adventures?

  “Are you saying there’s not an adventure hook in the mountains?” Gary asked accusingly.

  “Yes,” Lodge replied, then realized his mistake. “No. It’s beside the point!”

  “And the point is…” Cass added “beside the mountains. Off we go!”

  “I still want to talk to him,” Joanna insisted. “It’s what my character would do.”

  * * * *

  Luster and Flynn stood impatiently by the side of the road as Daphne wasted time chatting up the big oaf of a farmer.

  “How long have you been in town, my friend?” she asked, as though he were someone who mattered.

  “Oh, scarcely a day, my lady.” The farmer leaned in confidentially. “There are goblins in the mountains, you know.”

  Boring! Gary complained.

  “Have you heard anything strange in your travels?” she inquired. “Rumors about where Mort Kemnon might be?” The farmer cringed at the name.

  “I believe the adventure is that way!” Flynn said loudly, pointing toward the mountains.

  “My, those mountains look quest-worthy!” Luster echoed, pointing more or less in the same general direction.

  “The sooner you tell me what you know,” Daphne addressed the farmer, “the sooner you can safely return to your land.” Luster threw up her arms in disgust and began to cast a spell.

  “Well,” answered the farmer, “it may be nothing, but I’ve heard that things are not right in Westha….” Daphne snapped back as the farmer exploded in a ball of flame. Luster – now looking an awful lot like Gary in a bad wig – dusted his hands as nearby peasants ran away from the commotion.

  * * * *

  Leaning back from the table, Gary dusted his hands with a satisfied smile as Lodge and Joanna stared in shock and anger.

  “What the hell did you just cast?” Lodge asked loudly.

  “Flaming Hand of Fiery Doom” Gary answered proudly.

  “On a farmer?” Joanna asked, appalled.

  “You cast a fourth-level spell on a zero-level peasant?” Lodge clarified, equally appalled.

  “Yeah,” Gary smiled.

  “Waffle!” declared Cass.

  “Total waffle,” Leo agreed. Gary raised both hands, one facing to each side, allowing Cass and Leo to deliver simultaneous high-fives.

  “That spell is for killing demons!” Lodge protested.

  Joanna looked to Lodge. “I’m Lawful Good. Am I morally obliged to kill him now?”

  Lodge was too intent on Gary to respond. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was just trying to get on with the story!” Gary said with overdone innocence.

  Joanna turned to Gary. “How are we supposed to trust you?” Gary looked mystified, clearly not understanding what that had to do with anything. “We’ve just met! And the first thing you do, after boinking a stranger in the presence of the king, is to murder a peasant because you were bored?”

  “I’m Chaotic Neutral,” Gary defended. “I’m just playing my alignment...”

  “Bull-” Lodge caught himself, remembering that there was a lady present. “…plop, Gary. That was a decidedly evil act!”

  “You know,” Joanna said, glaring at Gary, “I think I am morally obliged to kill him now.”

  “One more of those” Lodge warned, “and I’m shifting your alignment to Chaotic Evil. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Gary sulked. After a moment, he asked “How much experience do I get for the farmer?”

  Leo tried not to let Lodge see him laugh…

  * * * *

  A pair of smoldering low-heeled leather boots were all that remained of the farmer.

  “Gary, are you forgetting something?” Lodge prompted

  Luster r
eached for Daphne’s cheek. “Oh…” he said, “you’ve got some peasant on your face…” He pulled it free and tossed it away as Daphne cringed in revulsion.

  “Like what” Gary asked innocently.

  A frightening-looking priest approached. A long knife was tucked into the belt of his red velvet robes. His skull was bald, his only visible hair a small goatee, of the sort worn by insecure teenagers trying to prove they are men. He was flanked by two paladins. Despite the Sunburst of Therin they all displayed, Luster thought this priest looked like the sort of creepy guy who would travel with a pet krenshar hidden in the treeline or something. Luster looked around, eyeing the underbrush suspiciously.

  Tall and Creepy stopped in front of them, holding his hand before him in the gesture Flynn always thought of as “Therin’s A-OK.” It seemed that her priests and followers used it for everything - greetings, spells, curses…

  “Hail, Flynn the Fine,” the creepy guy intoned in an even creepier deep voice.

  “Hail, random creepy knife guy,” Flynn replied, as the party members all attempted variations of the A-OK.

  “Dumbass, bardic knowledge” Lodge reminded Leo.

  “Oh - Right!” Flynn recovered. “You are totally….”

  The Lord High Inquisitor

  “The Lord High Inquisitor”

  “Of the Grand Illuminated Holy Order of Therin”

  Flynn paused. “What he said. Hail!”

  “The Hierophant begs an audience” the Inquisitor stated, in a tone that didn’t sound at all like a request. It made Luster very nervous.

  “Listen,” a flustered Luster exhorted. “If this is about that farmer, I totally thought he was a demon.”

  The Inquisitor never removed his eyes from Flynn’s as he commanded, “follow us.”

  “No, no seriously,” Luster babbled. “Uh... he was talking about... there’s, like, a hell gate in one of these things” he said, picking a cabbage apart desperately.

  “Uh… Seriously, no, it’s in here somewhere. He was... he had the horns... and the fangs... and then he said he was gonna... uh... pee fire on us. I had no choice. I had to like… I did this thing… I was like… and I was like - Boom! I’m pretty sure he was eating a baby. It was pretty awful.” Luster realized he was standing alone. “Woah – hey, we should take these!” He snatched up the farmer’s smoldering boots and rushed off to catch up with the party.

  “If this is about that farmer….”

  * * * *