I shake my head. From what I can tell, it’s a board game.
“Come on.”
The bigger guy notices us first. His grin widens when he sees Conner. “Hey, man. Didn’t think you would show.”
“Yeah…You said it would depend on whether she says yes.” The short student at the back focuses on placing the figurines. After he’s done, he straightens up and presses his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “Is this the girl you were talking about?”
Conner turns a bashful red, which causes the others to laugh and call him cute.
“All right,enough,” Conner snaps, but his tone is light and warm-hearted. He then focuses on me and says, “We come here every Friday to play a short campaign of Dungeons and Dragons. Noya, the one holding the sorcerer figurine, is Troy. He is our Dungeon Master and evil mastermind. Next to him is Aaron, and the one at the back is Finch.”
“Is she playing?” Finch asks while holding up two more figurines. “We lack a cleric and a fighter.”
Conner glances at me, and I twitch my head from side to side. Knowing myself, I’ll ruin the game somehow.
“She’s watching,” Conner declares.
“Next time,” Aaron says as he sits down.
Conner drags a chair beside him, and I sit, placing my hands on my thighs. Finch hands Conner a figurine of a man holding two daggers. Aaron is apparently the Dungeon Master, Troy is a Sorcerer, and Finch is a Druid. Something about being able to shapeshift into animals?
They speak in a language I should know because this game is all about imagination, creativity and storytelling, but I can’t. Their words made me double back as I try to figure out what they meant.
The dice are also critical, and Aaron is the one who holds the dice the most because, apparently, a rogue—what Conner is—likes to steal things.
Finch and Conner jolt in their seats when they roll high, dodging an attack from the dungeon troll standing in their way of a chest they want to lock pick.
While Troy attacks, Conner says he will be back and that I will take his place instead. I go rigid, and the chain and ball known as Conner unshackles himself from me, leaving me here defenceless and alone.
Troy raises his arm high while I glare at the door, silently begging Conner to enter, but Aaron is already calling Conner’s Rogue.
“Granick raises his club, which has sharp nails sticking out, and he moves the club down towards the rogue, ready to crumble the thief who dares to sneak past him,” Aaron declares.
As I swallow, my mouth has a cotton feel and taste to it while they stare at me as if I’m supposed to know what to do!
Finch leans towards me and whispers, “Try dodging the attack. If you dodge it, I’ll use my move to attack. Attacks are higher than dodging.”
I nod as I stare at the characters on the board. The rogue stands before Aaron’s gnarly-looking monsters. He has a beaming grin on his face as he awaits my fate.
Aren’t game masters supposed to be neutral?
“I…” I lick my cracked lips. “I use my…dagger to deflect the blow, and then I step to the side and f-fall back to my team,” I mumble.
“Nice,” Finch says as he leans away from me. “You heard the lady.”
Aaron clears his throat. “The Rogue raises his dagger to pierce the skin of the Orc and,”—he rolls the dice, and when it stops in the middle of the board, Finch and Troy wince—“misses, causing the Orc’s club to swing down on the Rogue’s arm.”
I slump my shoulders and sit back. Crap, I screwed up.
“The Sorcerer, Barthis, raises his staff to protect the Rogue, summoning a shield of protection!” Troy declares.
“Sorcerer Barthis raises his staff and,”—Aaron rolls the dice, and from Troy’s mutter of a swear, it isn’t good—“the shield isn’t powerful enough.”
We look at Finch as he glares at the board like it’s a math problem. As he looks up, he says, “Sorry, Noya, but we won’t all make it if I don’t attack—and I don’t have any pots left.”
I nod, accepting the fate of Conner’s Rogue.
Finch raises his hand and bellows, “I turn into an owlbear and slash my claws across the midsection the orc left open!”