Read by Will Goodhand
Here are the rules to my life. The sky rumbles overhead as the gods roll their dice, most commonly the twenty-sided variety. I can hear the most powerful god of all, the Dungeon Master, narrate what’s going on, sounding like the guy that does movie trailers. I basically do whatever the DM says and I can’t resist the commands. Trust me, I’ve tried.
Some skin-clad barbarian babe with a giant sword appeared next to me. “Hi. I’m Boobies McStabsAlot. Don’t ask. My player named me,” she said. Sounded like the DM invited over his thirteen-year old cousin again.
“Hey, I’m Edwa—”
“Nope. Don’t care. You’re probably gonna die. Let’s just get this over with.”
The DM spoke: After a brief introduction, they entered the dungeon, risking it all to find the lost treasure.
And that was the joke of it all, you see. We risked our lives for these great treasures but most of us died along the way. Then if you were lucky enough to get there, the gods would make you spend all your treasure on crazy magic, the sole purpose of which was to help you get more treasure. I just wanted to buy a damned flat in town and bop out some kids that grew up to be accountants or something boring like that.
Of course, I haven’t died yet. Somebody once told me that I wear two layers of plot armour. Must be strong as hell considering all the stuff I’ve been through.
We walked into the pitch-black dungeon and held our torches in front of us. Some of the tiles on the floor clearly operated as mechanisms for a trap. “Follow my steps,” I said, tiptoeing around the trigger plates.
McStabs strutted along, not following me at all, and stepped on a switch. The whole floor gave way to a giant pit with spikes at the bottom. “No, not again!” I yelled. Whenever a partner died, I waited an hour while the gods rolled their dice to make me a new one. I just couldn’t stand to be alone again. Then a pair of hands grabbed the edge of the pit trap and McStabs pulled herself out, not a scratch on her.
“How did you live?” I asked.
McStabs shrugged. “I have a lot of hit points.”
Deeper into the dungeon, we slaughtered a clan of goblins, crushed a stone ogre into dust, and saved a bunch of NPCs. Non-Player Characters are basically uninteresting dolts. McStabs and I are the stars of the show after all.
The DM said: The heroes easily conquer foe after foe, unknowingly heading straight into the lair of the Guardian.
I wiggled my fingers like I cast a spell and said, “Oooo, foreshadowing.”
Then the thundering in the heavens stopped for a while and I guess the gods took a little break to clear out their colons.
I couldn’t stand the silence though. I struggled conversing with McStabsAlot. So I talked about something I was passionate about. Something really interesting. Myself.
“I picked up the Super Attack feat at level two. That means by level six I’ll hit for extra damage. Then at level seven—”
“Oh my God!” McStabs yelled.
“What?” I gripped my sword with both hands and looked around for a monster.
“You are such a dork,” she said.
“A dork? What’s that? Is it some kind of special race? Does it have cool bonuses? Maybe I’m a half-dork.”
“No. You are a full dork,” she said.
“Ha! Awesome.”
Further down, we rescued some dwarven prisoners, stopped a dark elf wizard from underworld domination, and poached some excellent salamander eggs. Life could be interesting when fate operated by a twenty-sided die.
While eating breakfast (these eggs were huge by the way, think about a rugby ball stood on end) I had to ask McStabs what it would take for her to fall for a guy like me.
“The DM would have to tell me to love you.”
“That’s the only way?”
“Yup.”
Finally, we reached the Guardian. You know, the one the DM wouldn’t shut up about. With our swords drawn, McStabs and I approached the great beast from behind. The walls were lined with crystals formed during ancient infernos. We could see the dragon’s face by the only light available; the stream of flame emanating from his nostrils. The light shimmered off the crystals throughout the cave.
“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” it bellowed.
“Because the DM made us,” I said.
“UNACCEPTABLE.”
“Because we want your treasure,” McStabs said. Then she charged straight ahead with her sword raised, bringing the blade down on the dragon’s snout.
It roared and reared its head. I jumped onto its hind claw as it began flapping its wings and rising up into the air. Barely hanging on, I shoved my dagger beneath every scale I could reach and blood trickled out from each one, gathering together before streaming off the nails of the dragon’s claw.
I fell off the claw, as the blood made holding on slippery. The dragon landed in front of McStabs and me. He lurched his giant head back and a deep gurgling emanated from his belly.
McStabs charged but I shoved her to the side. “No!” I yelled. I ran towards the dragon and threw my dagger. As the flames shot out of its mouth, my dagger went into its throat. The fires scorched my body and I learned about the smell of burning flesh and hair. It really didn’t hurt. I always wondered what it must feel like to die.
But I wasn’t dead yet.
“We did it,” McStabs said. She stood over me. “Your dagger must’ve made it all the way into its lungs.”
“After I die, tell my mother that I love her,” I managed to say.
“Who’s your mum?”
“I don’t know.” I gasped for another breath. “My player hasn’t written her into my backstory.”
McStabs shook her head. She muttered some elvish words and colourful auras moved around her hands. The magic flowed over my skin and I returned to full health.
“You didn’t tell me you could do that,” I said.
“You never asked, you just kept going on and on about your extra damage or whatever.”
Then, an ethereal ghost of the dragon appeared, demanding to grant a wish to the slayers of its material prison. “THIS WISH IS YOUR TREASURE. ASK FOR ANYTHING YOU DESIRE,” it said.
I thought about great piles of treasure. I thought about wishing for McStabs to love me, but that would never be real. She would love me the same way that I was an adventurer, only through slavery. Then I thought about that flat in town and those little accountant kids.
“I wish to retire from adventuring with McStabs somewhere in town.”
Poof. It was done. McStabs wasn’t too happy about it but I won her round eventually. She starts a bar fight every now and then. Me? I’m happy living my excitement through books. Life is a lot different as an NPC.
One day in the town square, I saw a guy I had never seen before walking around in bewilderment. He wore leather armour and had a bow slung across his back.
“First day of existence?” I asked him.
“Yeah,” he said. “And what’s up with that noise?” He pointed to the sky. There was a rumbling of thunder.
“Oh boy,” I said. “You’re in for a treat. That’s the sound of a twenty.”
(c) J J Jordan, 2015
J J Jordan lives in Florida with his wife and two children. His other work will appear in Alternate Hilarities 4: Weirder Science and 101 Words.
Will Goodhand is the only man to make multiple-adventurer of kids’ cartoon fame Mr Benn jealous: Internet entrepreneur, radio DJ, Beauty & the Geek star and etiquette coach to Britain'sNext Top Models, Will regularly performs stand-up and story-readings on the London circuit: for details of upcoming gigs, email [email protected]
Comments