Chapter 45: Chapter forty-five

I wait till Dana finishes making calls, her notebook filled with scribbles. “Alright, I’ll finish these up tomorrow, we should prob’ly be getting’ o’er t’your place for the game, aye?”

I start, and then check my phone. “Yeah, it’s almost time to start. If we leave now, we’ll have more than enough time, though!”

I call for Jeffrey, and he lopes over. “We taking off? The game’s about to kick into high gear tonight, I can feel it!”

“Yeah, we’re heading over now! Let’s get a move on, guys!” I start jogging towards the grav-train station, my ponytail thudding comfortingly against my back as I lead our little group. We manage to board the train just in time, and I take a seat next to Dana, Jeffrey parking himself opposite. I fiddle with my phone, eager to get home to my parents and to my real clothes.

 

 

As the grav-train lurches to a halt at my stop, the three of us bundle off, heading to my house as the city’s automated lightspider drones scuttle into place, their plexiglass abdomens glowing brightly.  I get my key out and insert it as we reach my front door, opening it and calling, “I’m ho-ome! And I brought the others, too!”

Dad calls back, “I’m in the den, and your mother’s in the kitchen! We’ll be eating dinner shortly; do your friends want to join us?”

Jeffrey grins, “Of course! Seriously, Ky’s mom is an AWESOME cook!”

Dana tilts her head. “A’ight, bet! You’re on, I’m interested now! And that smell IS pretty enticing…”

I sniff the air and gasp. “She’s made pad Thai!”

Jeffrey cackles and does a goofy, happy little dance. “Yesssss!”

Dana looks bewildered. “Fat whatnow?”

I giggle. “Pad Thai! It’s a noodle stir-fry with a sweet-salty-sour sauce and crushed peanuts. Mum always uses prawns and eggs, too, along with garlic, chives, and tofu!”

Dana’s eyes widen. “That sounds… really feckin’ good, honestly! Now I’M excited for this!”

I smile, heading upstairs to get myself comfortable, returning about twenty minutes later to find everyone sitting around the dinner table. Crossing the room to give my parents a hug, I plonk myself down in an empty seat, sighing as I can feel the stress of the day melting away. It’s good to be home…

After dinner, I help clear the table as dad and Jeffrey head through into the den, while Dana helps dry the dishes and mum puts them away, the three of us chatting companionably about nothing in particular, before joining our DM and Monk in the den. Dad’s once again wearing the floppy wizard hat and huge fake beard, and the little drone he was tinkering with this morning hovers over an extra chair. “Ready?”

Books, dice, drinks and snacks array the table, and I find my character sheet, taking a seat between Dana and Jeffrey. “Yep!”

 

Dad begins.

“So, as the adrenaline fades from the systems of those who have adrenal glands, and the Warforged’s combat protocols deactivate, you take stock of your surroundings. It seems that this cavern is so well-hidden that the population of Glenhollow above you knows nothing of its existence. Can one of you make me a perception check?”

I take a D20 and roll, before adding my Wisdom modifier. “Um… 22!”

Dad nods approvingly. “As you cast your eyes around, Naa’ril, you spot a hole in the cavern wall, badly hidden behind some broken crates. It looks as though the bandits didn’t have the chance to really conceal the hole. What do?”

I think for a moment, then announce, “I march over to the pile of damaged crates and try to shift them!”

Dad smiles. “Strength check, please! Let’s see the dice!”

I roll, and wince. “That’s… a four?”

Wizard-Dad grins. “That is… NOT enough. And, in fact, you end up making some noise as you try to budge the crates.”

I sit back and frown. Dana looks over. “What’re you doing, Naa’ril? Shouldn’t we be gathering what supplies we can from our defeated prey?”

I shrug. “Well, there’s a passageway behind these boxes, but sure, let’s go through their pockets!”

Dad announces, “So, you have eleven dead bandits, and one who smells like urine. What are you going to do with him?”

Dana shrugs. “I’ll kill him. He’s a bandit, we can’t let him warn his friends, and I highly doubt any of this is legal.”

My mum shrugs. “You make a point. Besides, they attacked us first and must be the source of the tainted grain!”

Dad chuckles, okay, roll to hit, with advantage because he’s not expecting it, with your dual scimitars, Faeln!”

Dana rolls a pair of d20’s twice. “First was a twelve to hit, and the second is 22!”

Dad nods. “Two attack rolls, please!”

Dana’s dice rattle and clatter again, and she whoops, “7 and 6!”

My father claps his hands. “Well done! AS the bandit turns his head on a swivel, endeavouring to keep you all in his line of sight, Faeln slithers up behind him and his curved blades flicker out like a pair of oversized shears! With a resounding ‘snick!’, the bandit’s head rolls from his body and he falls limp!”

 With a few Investigation rolls, we score a total of 20 gold, 8 silver, and a metal pole, about five feet in length, made of a dull grey iron, with a button on one end. My mum looks at our DM with a raised eyebrow.

Dad grins. “So, which of you has Arcana?”

A brief muttering contest strikes, before I hold up my hand. “That would be me. Shall I make a roll?”

“Do you have Identify? Check your spell list.”

I check, then shake my head.

“Go for the roll, then.”

I roll, and smile, “16!”

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Dad claps his hands.

“Naa’ril, you recognize this item! The party has found, among the bandits’ belongings, a magic item known as… the Immovable Rod!”

I tilt my head as mum cackles. “Is that good?”

She turns and winks. “Oh yes it is!”

Dad explains, “If you place that rod anywhere, even in mid-air, and press the button, it will lock in place and stay there until the button is pressed again. It requires a DC30 strength check to move, and can hold weight up to 8,000 pounds in place.”

I squeak, “That seems really good! We can do all kinds of stuff with it!”

Dad grins and continues. “So, with the bandits looted and your coin purses heavier, the party has the choice to continue through the passage Naa’ril mentioned. The hole is wide enough to move two abreast, and it gloomy and dark. What’s your next move?”

Dana holds her hand up. “Should I scout ahead? We don’t know if there are more bandits lying in wait. We… did make a bunch of noise.”

I nod, and Jeffrey adds, “Better to know what’s coming than to charge in all willy-nilly!”

Dana announces, “After removing my armour, I hunker down and scuttle into the dark tunnel beyond!”

“Stealth roll from you, Faeln, there’s a good Ranger!” Dad chortles, before groaning theatrically as Dana smirks, “24! Your ambushes and traps are as nothing to me!”

“Or so you think! Make me a perception check-!”

Dana, already one step ahead of my father, already rolls. “Ha! Nat 20, with a +3 on top! Grab a napkin, cos you just got served!”

“As Faeln creeps his way along the passage, he finds evidence of several crude traps, but they all seem to have been sprung and are in no condition to trigger. Judging by how swiftly the bandits in the other chamber were dispatched, it seems as though they didn’t get the chance to set them up again.”

Dana grins. “Can I just keep going until I reach another chamber or something?”

Dad nods. “After about another three or four minutes, Faeln, you peer into a larger cavern, where the sounds of cheering and violence can be heard. It seems that, while the majority of the occupants are bandits much like those you and your companions slew, there are several individuals wearing filth-encrusted hooded robes that look like they may once have been purple.”

 Dana grins. “Okay, I’m going to creep back to the others and report what I’ve seen. How many bandits were there?”

Dad rolls a couple of dice, before giving her the numbers. “11 bandits and four mysterious cloaked figures.”

Dana ‘relays the information’ to us and we head down the passage way carefully, making stealth checks to avoid detection.

All of us apart from my mum rolled a twelve, who rolled a thirteen.  Luckily, the bandits and the other robed guys are too fixated on whatever-it-is they’re doing. Dad narrates, in a weird, echoed voice that gives an eerie undertone.

“The room beyond the end of the passage is lit by torches that burn a sickening blue, with the bandits arrayed around a great pit in the centre of the chamber. Carved lines chiselled into the rock snake down into the pit, encrusted with a foul, oily black substance. In the centre of the pit, there are two huge wolves, but only about 30% of the snarling is coming from them. Facing them down is a dwarf. Would you like to introduce your character, Houseworth?”

The drone floating over the empty chair begins emitting a quiet buzz as everyone falls silent, staring. A cone of blue light shines down, and a guy around mine and Jeffrey’s age appears. The blue fades, leaving a sort of opaque hologram. I stare. “Houseworth???”

“Greetings, Mistress Kylie,” the boy says, and it sounds exactly like the voice that comes from the speakers around the house. “Your father and I have been working on this for a while, and it’s finally paid off. Now, shall we resume play?”

The boy who is also the household’s Bound A.I sits down in the empty chair, and it… creaks under him?! He winks, and scoots it forward to sit fully at the table. He leans in and says in a thick Scottish voice that seems like it’s based on that Gnoll player from Aegis Online:

“Ah’m Helm Coldforge, and Ah’m here tae reclaim mah clan’s ancestral hammer. ‘Twas stolen from me and Ah WILL see it returned.”

Dad continues, as I try to process what’s going on, much as Jeffrey and Dana must be. “Helm, you’re facing down two wolves, what are you doing? You’re unarmed, but you DO have your chainmail.

Houseworth grins, a flicker of white teeth between his lips, and announces, “I will move up and engage one of the wolves with a lot of swearing.”

 Dad smiles, “Okay! The dwarf in the pit suddenly charges forward, fists windmilling, as he sprints towards one of the wolves! Make an attack roll to beat its Armour Class, please!”

Houseworth reaches out and picks up a dice, rolling it without any trouble! HOW?!

“That’s a 13 to hit.”

“Great, that connects, roll 1d4 and add your strength modifier!”

Houseworth rolls again and confirms, “7 damage!”

Dad smiles. “Excellent, that’s a decent amount of damage. As Helm charges the wolf, his massive fist connects with its ribcage, slamming the wolf back a little as its snarling cuts off in a yelp of pain. The other wolf seems to tense, what are you going to do next?”

Houseworth pauses. “Can I throw the uninjured wolf out of the pit if it tries to leap at me?”

Jeffrey grins, and Dana howls with laughter, as my dad sits there, looking honestly taken-aback.

“…. You know what? I’ll allow the dwarf to use a wolf as an improvised thrown weapon, because I’ve never had to deal with this before and I genuinely want to see where this goes.”

Houseworth’s smile widens as dad gives this insane, wonderful idea the green light.

“Helm, as you prepare yourself, the second wolf leaps, make a contested strength check!”

Houseworth rolls and adds his modifier, as dad does the same. Dad lifts his head. “The wolf got a 16 total, what about you, buddy?”

Houseworth lifts his hand… “18.”

Dad blinks, before throwing up his hands. “As… as the wolf launches itself at the dwarf, Helm ducks under its jaws, wraps his arms around the wolf’s chest, and… just…yeets it out of the pit, I guess? Let me make a roll real quick.” He grabs a dice and shakes it.

“Okay, so… the wolf gets catapulted out of the pit… and lands on one of the bandits. The bandit takes one point of damage from being hit by a thrown wolf and then takes 7 more from being bitten by said wolf. The bandit is now grappled.”

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