A Most Unruly Session of the Dungeons & the Dragons

Set forth in the Tongue and Temper of Master Shakespeare,
Wherein Dice Rule All, and Sense Doth Rarely Prevail

CHORUS:
Now, gentle reader, prick thine ears and mark this well:
Within these walls of humble wood and stained design,
Where crumbs lie thick as leaves in autumn’s fall,
Four players sit, resolved to tempt the Fates.
They come not arm’d with sword nor spell in truth,
But polyhedral stones of fickle mood.
The Dungeon Master takes his seat, most grave.
The world itself draws breath.

DM:
You stand upon a forest road, by moon made pale.
Tall oaks lean close, as if to hear thy plans.

PLAYER ONE (Sir Garrick):
I like it not. I draw my blade.

DM:
Against what foe?

PLAYER ONE:
Against the road. It hath an unseemly look.

DM (Aside):
Thus fear doth sprout ere danger shows its face.

PLAYER TWO (Elowen):
Good Master DM, doth magic haunt this wood?

DM:
Perchance it doth. Perchance it doth not.

PLAYER TWO:
Such riddles vex me. I shall cast Detect Magic.

DM:
Thou hast but little power left this day.

PLAYER TWO:
Then let my last strength buy peace of mind,
Though peace hath ever shunn’d me.

PLAYER THREE (Thistle):
Whilst they debate, I creep ahead unseen.

DM:
Roll thou for stealth.

(Dice clatter.)

PLAYER THREE:
Alas! A one.

DM:
Thou creep’st with all the grace of falling pots,
Trip’st o’er a root, and cry’st an oath most loud,
Alerting beast and goblin, bird and bug.

PLAYER THREE:
That root lay in ambush. I am blameless.

(Enter goblins, rank-smelling and ill-favoured, stage left.)

DM:
Three goblins leap from bush with shrill delight!

PLAYER ONE:
Now steel, prove true! I charge the nearest wretch!

DM:
Roll, sir.

(Dice.)

PLAYER ONE:
Seven.

DM:
Thy blade cuts air, yet air survives the blow.

PLAYER ONE:
I meant to test the wind.

DM:
The goblin mocks thee.

PLAYER TWO:
Then mark me well. I cast forth Fire Bolt.

DM:
At which foul beast?

PLAYER TWO:
The one beside small Thistle.

PLAYER THREE:
Must I ever be thy landmark?

(Dice.)

DM:
The spell doth strike. Roll damage.

PLAYER TWO:
Eight!

DM:
The goblin burns, a torch of screaming green.

PLAYER THREE:
And lo—my hat!

DM:
It burns as well.

PLAYER THREE:
O cruel fate! That hat had seen much war.

DM (Aside):
Confusion reigns, as ever at this board.

PLAYER FOUR (Brother Aldric):
I lift my holy sign and pray for aid!

DM:
Name thy spell.

PLAYER FOUR:
The healing one.

DM:
Whom wouldst thou heal?

PLAYER FOUR:
Who looks most wretched?

DM:
That would be thee.

PLAYER FOUR:
Then so be it.

PLAYER ONE:
Once more I strike!

(Dice.)

PLAYER ONE:
A natural twenty!

ALL:
Huzzah!

DM:
Speak it forth.

PLAYER ONE:
With righteous wrath I cleave mine enemy…

DM:
…And send his head to bounce along the path
Like stone on pond. The goblin is no more.

PLAYER ONE:
Justice hath legs.

PLAYER THREE:
I stab the last within the knee.

DM:
Why choose that mark?

PLAYER THREE:
That he may live to curse me in his dreams.

DM:
Thus end the goblins, slain by chance and spite.
The field lies still. You search the fallen dead.

PLAYER THREE:
I take all that I find.

PLAYER ONE:
Nay, we must share.

PLAYER THREE:
Indeed. At some later hour.

DM:
You find a map, a ring, and phial’d philtre.

PLAYER TWO:
I scan the ring for curses foul and dark.

DM:
It hums, as though it knows thy name.

PLAYER TWO:
I like that not.

PLAYER THREE:
I wear it.

PLAYER TWO:
Why must thou ever tempt the void?

DM:
The ring grows tight, as if in fond embrace.

PLAYER THREE:
See? It loves me.

PLAYER FOUR:
Beware all things that love too swiftly.

PLAYER ONE:
What saith the map?

DM:
A dungeon mark’d with words: Here Be Regret.

PLAYER TWO:
Ill tidings.

PLAYER ONE:
Adventure.

CHORUS:
They quarrel long o’er loot and rightful turns,
O’er rests both short and long, and whose fault ‘twas.
Then earth itself grows weary of their noise.

DM:
The ground doth shake. A growl from depths below.

PLAYER THREE:
The ring hath doom’d us.

PLAYER TWO:
I warned thee!

PLAYER THREE:
After the fact!

DM:
From underfoot, some dreadful thing awakes.

PLAYER ONE:
I ready shield.

PLAYER FOUR:
I pray again.

PLAYER TWO:
I count my spells and weep.

DM:
And here we end.

ALL:
Thou art most cruel!

CHORUS:
So falls the curtain on this night’s mad play.
No dragon slain. No wisdom truly learn’d.
Yet laughter shared, and dice once more betray’d.
Exeunt all,
Till next they meet, and tempt the Fates again.