One Night in Hommlet

"What's the wooden block for?" I asked curious.

"To catch the poisoned needle if I screw up."

Okay, don't ask any more questions.

The lock popped with a heavy click and Liam stepped to the side. Using his short sword he pushed the door open. The room beyond was littered with rich clothes and discarded finery from the many caravans and wagon these bandits must have attacked. Most of it had the look of having been pilfered and pawed over. There was a large bed, piled high with pillows and blankets, all old and worn but showing signs of once having been of high quality.

There was a chest in the corner. Beside it stood a large barrel, stained dark red about the bung. A smaller barrel rested atop the first. The branded on labels, declaring them to be from the Duchy of Urnst, were clearly visible on both barrels.

Liam noted this in passing. "That is some high dollar wine and brandy. No wonder the innkeeper was desperate to get it back."

"Be quick." Vallejo turned to guard our backs. His hands were filled with spell components. "We must be gone within moments."

Nodding, I rushed into the room and headed for the wine. Willow beat me to the smaller brandy barrel. She hefted it easily. Then, setting it back down, Willow tried to lift the larger wine barrel. It cleared the floor by a few inches, but she quickly set it back.

"It will take at least myself and Kyle to carry the wine. Rowan or Liam should be able to carry the brandy."

"Fuck the wine."

I turned toward Liam. He had opened the large chest and was picking out several items, and pawing through others.

"There is a small fortune in brick-a-brac and the odd plunder gathered here." Grinning, he looked back at us. "Let's take this chest instead."

Vallejo stuck his shiny bald head back inside. "Time people, time."

I moved over and tried to pick up the handle of the chest. I couldn't even get it to clear the floor.

"Too heavy." I looked inside and true enough there was riches to be had. I grabbed a cloth from a table and thrust it at him. "Take the cream, but make it quick. Rowan, grab the brandy. Willow help me with the wine barrel."

With Liam grumbling and cursing behind us, we toted the heavy barrel up the stairs and out into the grand hall. Liam came up the stairs in a rush, a grin on his face.

"What did you do?" I asked, expecting mischief.

"I broke his lock. I closed the door, but his key is now useless. He won't know he's been robbed till he can get that door open."

I grinned. "That's a pretty stout door. And there isn't really any room to bring any kind of ram to play against it."

Liam nodded, shifting the noisy sack across his back. "Let's hurry, shall we?"

As we rushed past the drunken brigand, I saw that he was trying to push himself back to his feet. Willow shot out a foot and kicked him in the head, in passing. He went promptly back to sleep. Liam tipped an invisible hat to the man.

"Hope he doesn't get into too much trouble with Jackson. He was a decent enough fellow, for a highwayman."

"But his cup was empty," said Vallejo, running along behind us, his robes tucked into his belt so that his skinny legs showed.

"True. So very true."

Across the grand hall, down the ruined steps, and into the courtyard. I was already panting from the weight of the barrel of wine.

"Stop a moment."

I set down my side and Willow had to follow.

"What?"

"I've got a prisoner to free." Without any explanation, I bolted into the stable.

The horses were all hungry by now. I would have freed them all, but I knew they would rush out into the swamp to be promptly eaten by the giant frogs. Silently apologizing to the misused and mistreated beasts, I moved to the big gray's stall.

"Come one big fella. Time to make a break for it."

I paused only long enough to grab two long carriage poles, some leather straps, and a coil of rope. The big horse was happy to make his way out the cold damp stable.

"What are you doing?" asked Rowan, in a voice edging toward shrill. "Do we have time for rescuing horses?"

"He's going to carry the wine. Well, once we get clear of here and to our horses." Dropping to my knees beside the wine barrel I fished the rope around it twice. Willow saw what I was doing and with her, if anything, even greater wood crafting skills helped me to quickly rig the barrel to be carried upon a pole passed through the loops. We slid them both through the loops, each of us got a shoulder under them and stood up. The weight was still an issue but no longer the strain it had been. "Let's go."

Liam was now leading the way again. He was a half step out the main door when Rowan called out.

"Torches!"

Damn it, yeah.

Vallejo held up a black wand and a huge blaze of light sprang to life on the tip. He moved to the middle and we all started forward.

Under the combined weight of Willow, me, and the wine barrel the rotted drawbridge gave several ominous creaks and groans. The big gray stud that Rowan was leading even put a hoof through the boards. All around us the frogs took up their croaking serenade again.

"We need to hurry. I can't keep this light up forever."

Heeding Vallejo's advice, we were all but sprinting down the muddy trail. I have never been so happy to find myself on even semi-dry land again. The frogs followed, hopping along close on our heels for a bit but some of them gave up as the ground began to grow rocky. A few, however, continued to follow along behind us.

"I left the horses up in those cottonwoods." Liam pointed ahead.

"Lead the way then," said Rowan.

I could hear a hint of strain her voice. The weight of the barrel of brandy must feel as if it was growing with every step. I know this damn wine barrel sure as hell did.

"I already am leading the way, thank you kindly."

"Liam more speed, less talk." Vallejo's warning tone told us what our eyes were already seeing. The light on his wand was dimming.

When Willow and I topped the small rise, I saw a large animal silhouetted before me. Its whinny was a pleasant welcome. I set down my end of the barrel and rushed back to help Rowan up the hill. When I took the brandy barrel from her, I was surprised by the weight of it. She had been carrying without complaint at least as much as I had been.

Working quickly, we got the wine barrel strapped to a travois type rig on the large gray horse. Well, to be exact Willow, Rowan, and Liam loaded the wine and brandy while Vallejo and I guarded our backs. Still, the mage's light blinked out before we were done and the marsh around us grew suddenly fierce sounding. Loud pops of heavy feet breaking reeds, the deep croak of the frogs and, even worse, a sound I will remember in my nightmares.

The wild howl of a swamp troll.

And not too distant.

Leaping into the saddle, I now took the lead. Following the pathways that I had walked in the twilight was now more a matter of memory than sight. Above of us the moonlight has passed its zenith and was on the wane, taking with it the only edge we had. Against creatures that hunted us mostly by smell and taste, the black of night was their killing ground.

But I'm not totally lost in the darkness either.

"The wagon is just ahead," I called out as the reeds rushed past the legs of our horses.

From the back, I heard Liam's question. "And that will make what difference? I can hear these damn frogs all but hopping onto my heels.

"Fire!" I cried out, but couldn't explain.

My nose was already full of the smell of old smoke. With some small bit of luck, we might be able to rouse some of the coals at the wagon back into flame. Since these frogs didn't care for fire -- not to mention that damn swamp troll I could still hear in the distance -- perhaps a roaring blaze might dissuade pursuit. Or maybe give us an edge in the fight if we couldn't avoid it. At the very least some light to see by.

Leaping my mount, I crashed over rather than through the last few feet of reeds and sawgrass to reach the road.

"KYLE, LOOK OUT!"

Willow's scream behind me gave me a second's startled reaction and that alone might be what saved me. I yanked back on the reins, causing the horse to skid on his hooves. That caused the huge frog -- its mouth already gore-rimed with bloody chunks of meat from the wagon's dead horse -- to mostly miss as it leaped atop me.

In a great pile of kicking horse legs, swamp reeking amphibian, and sword swinging ranger we all crashed hard into the muddy ditch beside the road. There was a terrible cracking sound and I saw and felt my horse die, his neck had snapped under the weight of the frog clawing at it. I screamed out in pain as the dead horse roll over on top of me in its death throws. Then I screamed as a thick wet frog tongue latch itself onto my left wrist and all but jerk my arm out of socket trying to swallow me. The weight of the horse prevented that, but only just. Still howling in pain and fury, I grabbed at that slick wet thing and brought my right arm across as hard as I could. The tip of this longer blade bounced off its foul face even as the steel edge -- the part just above the heavy cross guard -- struck that rubbery tongue over and over.

With a roar of purest rage Willow all but dove off her horse into that wild chaotic pile. Her hand and a half bastard sword was a weapon poorly designed for such close fighting but she didn't seem to care. Half-swording it, she drove it into the damn amphibian up to the hilt, then she wrenched her blade side to side like she was digging a post.

Pinned under my dead mount I did what I could, but other than cutting that tongue free of my left hand I didn't do much. As the bloody thing was sucked back into its mouth and the frog turned more towards Willow. The barbarian's red fist followed the movement and after punching it once hard, Willow took a firm grip on the half-stunned frog's lower jaw. Then, with a grunt of primal fury, she used her own sword as a second handle to grip the slimy frog. Utterly amazed, I watched in disbelief as she lifted the frog and tossed it off of me. It struck the burned and broken wagon and tumbled over the dead horse it had been feasting on. The thing gave a piteous sound and might have slunk away into the swamp to nurse its wounds.

But that was not good enough for my lovely Willow in her current state of mind.

With a battle cry of primal rage, she vaulted away from me, sprinted up the back of the burnt wagon bed and leaped off the front. With a mighty scream, she drove her hard boots into the frog's head. Half-hidden by the horse atop me, the wagon between us, and the half-eaten horse on the other side I couldn't see much of what happened next. I am sure however that I saw her blade being ripped free of the amphibian and being brought back around to hack at the thing repeatedly.

Rowan was at my side then. Her hand wiped at the blood on my face and she looked into my eyes. "Kyle? Can you hear me?"

A cough drove my broken ribs deeper into my lungs. I know I spit up some blood onto her robes, but I couldn't apologize for that at the moment.

"Lay still!" She looked back over her shoulder. "Willow! The damn thing is dead already. I need help getting this horse off Kyle!"

"I've got this, Rowan." Vallejo stepped up, holding a hand that glowed over the fallen mount and with an uplifting gesture the weight began to remove itself from my lower body.

I would have screamed at the agony that flashed through me like lightning, but I didn't have the energy to manage that. For a moment darkness held out a welcoming hand to me and I reached for it. Then Willow's red face was before mine. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes were calling me back. Imploring me not to go into that darkness.

Across my whole body, I felt a warm fire building. I could hear Rowan speaking prayers to her god and I felt the sudden pops of my bone resetting as blessedly distant sensations. The only thing that I could focus on was the reddish-skinned woman before me. The half-mad wild barbarian tiefling girl that had so much fun and fury wrapped up inside her. Reaching up, I took her hand and held it tight as the healing powers of our cleric chased the last of the darkness away and the true physical torment that I was in flashed home.

"AHHH!"

"Easy, Kyle. I've got you." Willows' hand tightened on mine and her claw-like nails bite into my skin giving me a minor pain to focus on, rather than the far greater ones. Slowly, oh so very slowly, those bright warm flames chased away the pain. When at last they had faded, I felt like I had been ... well, run over by a giant frog, to be truthful.

After a moment more Rowan and Willow got me to my feet. I could hear Liam to my right and Vallejo to my left.

The mage took charge.

"Get him on a horse. There is too much dead meat here for us to ever hope to use this wagon for defense." The bald mage caught at Willow's elbow but connected with my arm instead. "The stench of all this blood and death is drawing every hungry thing within a mile straight to us."

"I can ride," I mumbled."

"You can hang on," Willow corrected. "Here, get on my horse."

The ride back to town was more than a bit of a blur.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

"Yes!" Philip pumped his hand into the air. He was grinning like an absolute fool.

But then everyone was smiling about the same.

"Well, what do you all think?" asked John. "Like my new campaign? I'll try to make future games a bit better, but for a first game I didn't want to throw too much at you."

"What? Are we done for the night?" asked Belinda. "We've still got to get back to the inn, turn over this wine, I need a bath or maybe two. And I am certainly going to drink me some of this damn brandy before I molest a certain ranger to within an inch of his life."

We all laughed.

John leaned back and took off his glasses. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I'm going to have to call it a night. Besides, look at the time."

Glancing over at Mom's tablet, I saw that the digital clock in the corner of the screen said it was 1:23 AM.

"Experience points?" asked Todd.

John nodded. Picking up his notepad, he did a bit of quick math -- some of it on his fingers -- wrote down a number on his sheet, picked up his glasses, adjusted them twice, took them back off, erased something on his paper, wrote something new, did a bit more finger math, rolled a dice, wrote something else, then looked up to a room full of people about to murder him.

"Call it ... three hundred and fifty points of XP."

"Yes!" cheered a couple of us realizing that was enough to go up a level. There was a sudden scramble for the available copies of the Player's Handbook. John handed over his, even as he was packing plastic toy frogs into his figure case. I picked up one of these plastic Dollar Tree frogs that was closest to me and tossed it at his head.

Mom got to her feet and moved over to the pizza boxes still sitting on the sideboard table. She opened them all.

"Well, not much left, but does anyone want to take the leftovers?"

Todd raised his hand like he was in school. "I will, if you don't mind, Rowan. I'll call it my lunch tomorrow. Or maybe dinner."

My mom gave him a look and then a smile that he had called her by her character's name. "I'll compile it all into one box for you ... Velly."

Making some noise to draw attention back to himself, Philip stood up.

"Ah, well that was a lot of fun. It's been so long since I got to play, not will all the games I've run for you lot." Philip gave a huge stretched. He had already packed up his things into his bag. "John, great game. If you need any help or pointers on the next game just give me a call. This was great, Mrs. C. I do hope you will let us play here more often. Admittedly, this dining room doesn't have all the shelves filled with miniatures that my place does, but it's a pretty good game room."

"You were very welcome, Philip and I'm sure I will allow future game." Mom smiled, her eyes alight. "This was a lot of fun. It's been far too many years since I got to play D&D last."

"Well, I for one am damn glad you did," said Belinda, looking up from her character sheet. "Without a few of those healing spells you cast, I think we all would have been toast tonight. Great character, too."

Philip nodded, shouldering his bag. "Yes, Rowan is a badass. Well, night night."

"Good night, Philip."

"Night, Liam."

Mom gave a wave. "Goodbye, have fun storming the castle."

As the gaming session broke up, dice were put away, figures went back into their cases, and character sheet got stuffed into notebooks and then, one by one, everyone slowly said their goodbyes and drifted away. I racked my brain for a way to get to talk to Belinda more. She seemed to want the same but then got shy and hustled herself out the door, right on Todd's heels. Her mom's cake pan was tucked under her arm.

Then it was just Mom and me.

With a smile and a shake of her head, my mom opened her old notebook back up and handed me a pink post-it note. On it was a phone number.

"Give her an hour, then give her a call."

I blinked and fumbled for words. "But, Mom, by then it will be two in the morning?"

"She will be awake." Mom chuckled. "I won't be, though. It's been a long time since I did something this foolishness. I'm headed for bed."

I couldn't remove my eyes from the phone number in my hand. It was even written in Belinda's flowing script. "Night night, Mom."

Laughing, she left me there in the dining room alone.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Stuffing my pillows behind me, I curled up in my bed and stared intently at the clock on my phone.

Fifty-five minutes since Belinda left.

What was I going to say to her? I mean what would we talk about? I mean, other than D&D, did she and I have anything really in common? I mean, yeah sure, she was a bit of a geek and all, just like me. I mean sure we might have read the same books or see the same movies or maybe even gone to the same comic book convention. But ... other than all that ... I mean what did she and I really do that was similar?

I mean...?

Fifty-five minutes and thirty seconds.

And what if I fuck this up? What if me talking to her, just like any other guy, might make her not like me? I would hate to break up our gaming group over trying to ask Belinda out.

What if...?

Holly shit! I was just thinking about asking her out! Oh, Jesus humping a poodle!

Fifty-six minutes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... think Richie, think.

Alright ... calm must remain calm. Must not give into panic. Fear is the mind killer, fear is the little death. Oh, damn but I'm going to be so screwed if this comes around and bites me in the ass. The guys will never let me hear the end of it. And Mom! Oh, hell she will hawk on this till I'm in my seventies!

"In her damn nursing home -- riddled with Alzheimer's -- Mom would still be harping on this night. I can hear her now. Remember that hot girl I told you to ask out? Yeah, the one that played a barbarian. She was the one for you and you screwed it up good and proper."

Great, now I'm talking to myself.

Fifty-eight minutes.

I idly shifted my phone from hand to hand. My eyes darted about my room, trying to find anything to distract me.

Sixty minutes.

Must have worked.

With a sigh for courage, I picked up the pink post-it note. I didn't give myself time to think anymore about what I was doing, I just dialed the number. Her number.

Belinda's number.

" ... Hello?"

"Hi." Seriously, Richie? Seriously? Was that the best you could do? Could you possibly get any more lame?

There was a pause, then I heard a small chuckle.

"Did you honestly ask your mom to get my number for you? I know you didn't have it before. John has always had to call me before a game."