“Four D Six, that’s six-sided dice,” Kirby explained to Stephi. “Pick the best three, for your stats. Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Coordination, Constitution, Endurance, Charisma, Appearance and Luck.”
“I want my character to be an elf, like Arwyn in the Lord of the Rings movies.”
“She wasn’t anything like that in the books—” Kirby began, then thought better of it. “Being an elf is cool, but there are some drawbacks. And you have to finish your rolls to see if your character would be a good warrior like her. Plus, what the party needs.”
They rolled and recorded, as did Glenn and everyone else, including Derek.
“Holy crap! You got all four sixes for appearance. Rules say that means you get an eighteen point five. You gotta be an elf now.” Kirby pointed to a table in the handbook resting between him and Stephi. “They get a plus one bonus to appearance. You’d be friggin hotter than anybody.”
Stephi grinned, reached around Kirby’s shoulder and pulled him close in a hug. Either she was very excited herself, Glenn thought, or a great actor. Probably the latter.
Glenn looked through the door’s window, but didn’t spot the GM. He was a little confused about his choices. He had decent stats, a seventeen in constitution, which meant more hit points. He remembered that was good. But his wisdom was only a seven. Gnomes got a plus one bonus. Half goblins and half ogres got one point off. Humans, elves, half elves and dwarves weren’t affected with that stat. Those were the only character races available.
Skimming the section on gnomes told Glenn they weren’t like garden gnomes, more like a cross between hobbits and dwarves. Remembering the creepiness vibe the GM gave off encouraged him against waiting to ask his advice. It looked like a score of eight would remove any subtractions from saving rolls, so he selected gnome for his race.
Glenn listened in as Kirby explained, “Okay, with classes it’s best to go with the standard and not any of the subclasses. They advance ranks a little faster and have some benefits, but they’re also limited. Like a warrior can do about anything, whereas a huntsman or woodsman is limited in weapons and armor, a soldier, which helps with formation fighting, opposite of a gladiator, but—.”
Derek interrupted Kirby, asking everyone, “What classes do we have? I got a warrior. Probably going to be human.”
Ron said, “I got a warrior too, but I am leaning towards the woodsman subclass. And Kim is interested in running a warrior monk.”
Kirby said, “I have a half-goblin thief.”
He nudged Stephi, who then said, “I am playing an elf. I want to be a warrior too.”
Glenn said, “I have a gnome, with a good constitution, but pretty much average stats.”
Derek said, “We need someone with healing spells, and a spell caster. You have a good con, Glenn. Gnomes can be clerics or healers. What’s your wisdom?”
“Close to lousy.”
Derek frowned. “Cleric’s out then. There’s straight healer. They don’t do spells, other than healing, and don’t fight very well, but can take a lot of damage and can cure wounds better than anything else in the game.”
Glenn shrugged. “Okay.” He wrote down “Healer” where it listed class on his fancy character sheet. Being a healer might be boring, but it would allow him to observe interactions and maybe take notes, and maybe glean something for his paper.
After exchanging whispers with Kirby, Stephi announced, “Kirby said he’d help me with spells if I run a magic user.”
Ron examined his character sheet. “Okay, I’ll run a multiclass warrior-druid. When the GM gets back I’ll ask if I can be one quarter elf instead of half. The druid will offer some of what I wanted in a woodsman, plus druids have a little bit of healing to back up Glenn’s gnome.”
With that agreed upon, everyone went back to their characters.
Glenn listened in on Kirby’s discussion with Stephi.
“You said you wanted to be like Liv Tyler’s character, right? She’s like about six feet tall, I think. Plus they made her wear boots with heels to make her character look taller.”
Glenn wasn’t so sure of that, and made a note in his spiral notebook to check that out. Might be something for his paper.
“How tall is your goblin thief?” Stephi asked.
“Half-goblin.” Kirby checked his character sheet and raised an eyebrow in thought. “About one point fifty-seven meters.”
“You have to do the game in metric?”
“You can, unless it’s too complicated for you.”
Glenn knew Kirby was baiting her. The question was, was she interested in messing with the kid right back?
“Okay, but I don’t want my character to be more than a foot taller than yours…unless elves are supposed to be.”
“You can be whatever you want.” He did some mental calculations. “Put down one point eight five meters for height.” When she raised an eyebrow, he said, “Haven’t you ever seen a meter stick? It’s about the size of a yardstick, which is three feet. He turned and asked Glenn, “Right?”
Glenn nodded, knowing Kirby was telling her the truth. His own character was all of four feet three inches, which, according to the Monsters, Maces and Magic’s Player’s Guide, was pushing the upper limit for a male gnome.
“Then I am going to just round it off and put down two meters,” Stephi said.
With a measure of hesitancy in his voice, Kirby asked, “What about your character’s female measurements?”
“Really?” She scanned her character sheet. “I don’t see a spot for those.”
“Under ‘Special.’ Remember the picture you made me take?”
“Okay, you little goblin,” she teased.
“Half-goblin,” he reminded her. He flipped through a few pages in his book and pointed to a picture depicting a busty female warrior fending off some sort of skeleton with a shield and short sword.
“Chauvinistic male game designers.” Stephi showed the image to Kim, then looked back at Kirby. “Whatever. Just tell me what to put down.”
Glenn knew she was going along for her paper. He just hoped she’d keep Kirby’s contributions to it anonymous.
Kirby looked up at the ceiling, calculating. “Put down one thirty-five centimeters.”
“Bust, under Special,” Stephi said as she wrote, and then grinned. “Round up to one hundred forty centimeters, to keep my little man happy.”
Kirby pursed his lips while his face turned red again. “Are you sure?”
“It’s only a game, and we’re having fun, Kirb. At least I am.”
Kirby’s eyes widened as he peered at their character sheets. “Okay. Me too.”
“Do I use my name for my character’s name?” Stephi asked.
“No,” Kirby said, feigning exasperation. “This is a role playing game. My character’s name is Gurk. Sounds like a half-goblin’s name, doesn’t it?”
“I’m role playing an elf. Nature and the woods, right?”
Kirby nodded.
“What about White Ash?”
Kirby stared at her in disbelief, then grinned. “That’d be a bad choice.”
Stephi put her hands on her hips. “Oh, and why is that?”
Kirby rolled his eyes. “Before you know it, everyone’ll be calling your character ‘White Trash.’”
Stephi huffed, maybe over-acting again. “That’d be so juvenile.”
Kirby turned to Glenn. “Am I right?”
Glenn nodded, thinking about how most guys would be. “He’s looking out for you on this.”
She huffed again. “So, White Birch would be a bad idea, too?”
Kirby’s eyes widened. “Uhhhm.”
She smirked and bumped her shoulder into his. “Just jerking your chain, little man. What about Marigold, like the flower?”
Glenn suppressed a grin as Kirby shrugged and Stephi wrote it down.
“Last thing is alignment.”
Glenn had already looked those up, and had selected Neutral Gray, which he based on his brief stint p
laying Dungeons & Dragons. Most players ran good characters, and Chaotic allowed for more personal freedom of actions, but sometimes you had to play undisciplined, whereas Lawful restricted by putting boundaries. So Neutral was a good balance. White was the code word for Good, Gray was Neutral and Black indicated Evil, which was combined with the former Lawful, Neutral or Chaotic.
Kirby refused to share his alignment with Stephi, saying it was a personal choice, but he told her that most elves were good, and that Arwyn would probably be classified as White, hovering somewhere between Neutral and Chaotic on the spectrum.
Everyone continued filling out their character sheets, selecting and purchasing weapons, armor, and equipment, and spells, for those that could cast them, and totaled any coins they had left over.
“All we have left,” Derek announced, “is for the GM to make our heirloom roll and we’re ready to get our adventure underway.”
As if on cue, the GM returned with a can of root beer and a bag of pretzels.
Everybody but Derek watched him enter the room. Instead, he studied his character sheet, like he was trying to memorize it.
“If everybody’s finished and selected their character’s name, please pass your sheets to me so that I might look them over, make heirloom rolls, and then we can initiate you into the most exciting adventure you’ll ever experience.”
That sounded pretty boastful to Glenn, but the black-clad man’s baritone voice sounded confident and, without a doubt, sincere.
Chapter 2
Glenn remained in his chair as everyone got up.
Kirby patted him on the shoulder. “Easy stuff.”
When everyone had departed and the door was shut, the GM rolled some dice, jotted something on Glenn’s character sheet and handed it over the screen to him. “Your heirloom is an everlast candle.”
“Okay,” Glen said, seeing where the GM had written it in clear block letters under the section listed as “Magic Items.” It didn’t sound all that awesome, and he figured he could ask Kirby what it was.
“Although not original,” the GM continued, “You indicted silver wire imbedded on the ‘business end’ of your cudgel.”
Glenn nodded, seeing that the GM hadn’t erased the addition. “Well, cudgel doesn’t do the most damage, but I figured silver would work against some monsters like werewolves. Next best thing to magic. I figured two gold coins would cover it.”
“Fair.” The GM scratched his chin. “You have previously played Monsters, Maces and Magic?”
“No. When I was in junior high, I played Dungeons & Dragons a few times.”
“Ah. Your fourteen intelligence allows you an additional Minor Healing Draw spell, giving you two. You know how it works?”
Glenn had breezed over the Healer description, figuring it was pretty evident. “At first level—”
“Rank,” the GM interrupted him. “Continue.”
“At first rank, I can cure others equal to my character’s current hit point standing, so with two such spells, my character can cast it twice, as long as he doesn’t exceed the hit point total.”
“And you are able to cure twice your hit point total from damage or injuries your character personally receives, per day. Every character receives maximum hit points at first rank. So that is twelve, plus your constitution bonus of three, gives you an impressive fifteen.”
Glenn had read that only healers and barbarians, a subclass of warriors, got a D12 roll for each rank. Regular warriors only got a D10.
“As you are Neutral Gray,” the GM continued, “that would mean at sunrise the healing ability is reset. All Gray and White reset at sunrise. Black at sunset.”
Glenn thought it was sort of odd. It’d make more sense for White to be noon, or something. Gray at sunset, and B
lack at midnight. He nodded and just accepted it as the game’s rules.
“Any other questions, Jax?”
Glenn was momentarily surprised, but figured it was normal for the GM to use his character’s name. “What’s your name?”
The man’s dark eyebrows drew together. “During the game you will address me as Game Moderator, or GM.” He handed Glenn the fancy black and silver pen. “Sign at the bottom, so that we might move on.”
Glenn figured he could use that lack of distinction in his paper, again if things worked out.
The pen was frigid, like an ice cube, especially where his fingers came into contact with the silver inscriptions. The GM had already removed the cap.
“What kind of paper is this? It’s almost like a cross between regular paper and some sort of fabric.”
“Cat skin.”
Glenn shrugged. He’d never heard of that brand. While signing his name, red ink streamed out, forming the letters. It sparkled for a fraction of a second, like a glitter pen’s ink, before quick-drying to a dull, brick red.
When he handed the pen back to the GM it stuck to his index finger, pinching and tearing away a sliver of skin, causing a small bead of blood to well up.
Not having a napkin or anywhere to wipe it, he said, “Must’ve held on too tight and got my skin caught in between a section of silver scribing,” before putting the bleeding finger in his mouth. He pulled it out. “Sorry.”
“That hasn’t occurred previously,” the GM responded.
For some reason, to Glenn, the statement rang false.
“Send in the young Master Kirby, if you would.”
Glenn stood several paces away from the battle between two miniature armies. One side appeared to be knights and foot soldiers, including archers and spearmen, fending off a horde of goblins backed by a squad of ogres and two giants. It included measuring distances and rolling dice for arrow or boulder tosses, as the goblins and ogres closed.
It was a slow game, with the four men, two of which were in their early fifties, talking about science fiction authors as they played. Glenn was more interested in the painted miniatures, thinking back to his junior high friend. These were far more meticulously painted than his friend’s, the goblins especially, being an identical greenish brown with bronze armor and orange shields.
Stephi and Kim were sitting at an otherwise empty table, playing on their smart phones.
Ron and Derek stood next to the drinking fountain, Derek complaining with hand gestures indicating frustration. Ron shook his head, and Glenn overheard him say, “If he is related, it remains your concern. Not mine.”
Kirby shouted across the room, “Stephi, GM says you’re next.” He then trotted up to Glenn by the tables holding the miniatures. “Ever play?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Me neither. But some Monsters, Maces and Magic games use miniatures for showing where characters and monsters are at, and for movement.” He shrugged. “Not usually for one-night games, but for long-term campaigns.”
Glenn dreaded Kirby bringing up if Glenn intended to show up next Friday, so he changed the subject. “You want a pop from the machine?”
“My dad says that’s what water fountains are for.”
Glenn pulled out his wallet. “My treat, Kirby.”
Kirby grinned. “Get me a Monster?”
“How about something more tame—and healthy.”
“Dr Pepper then?”
“That’ll work.” Glenn fed dollar bills into the slot.
“Sure. That’s pretty cool of you. Thanks.”
By his reaction, Glenn figured not many people went out of their way to be nice to Kirby. He seemed like a decent kid, but junior high years could be pretty hard on someone who didn’t fit in.
They spent the time talking about the upcoming Marvel movie releases while the remaining players cycled through the pregame meeting with the GM.
All the players back in their seats with the room’s door closed, the GM stood. “Before we officially immerse you in your adventure, each will describe the character they intend to be.”
Be? Glenn thought that pushed role playing, but not by too much. Anyway, he started. “My c
haracter is named Jax. He’s a gnome who freely admits to being a healer. Big nose and skin the color of weak tea. He has no armor, but a leather jerkin. He does carry a round shield and a cudgel in his belt. The business end of the cudgel is covered by a wool knit cap, like a golfer covers the head of his clubs.”
Kirby went next, excitement in his voice. “My half-goblin is named Gurk. He’s taller than Jax the gnome, standing a couple inches over five feet. He carries a cutlass and wears leather armor and a bandoleer of darts. He looks pretty mean and not like someone to mess with.”
Glenn frowned, having neglected to tell about his sling, but decided it didn’t matter and wasn’t worth interrupting.
“My character is Marigold, an elf maiden,” Stephi said and glanced down at her character sheet. “She’s two meters tall wearing boots with two inch heels, so she towers over her little man, Gurk.”
Kirby leaned over and whispered to her. “Elves don’t like goblins, and that usually means half-goblins too.”
Stephi looked surprised. “I’m not—I mean Marigold’s not racist.” She glanced at her character sheet again, regaining her composure. “She’s tall and extremely beautiful, and carries a rapier with a bronze basket hilt. She wears a loose fitting green blouse, brown trousers and a hooded cloak, also forest green. Like all elves Marigold has pointed ears, but they’re usually hidden under her waves of long dark hair. You might guess that she’s a magic user, as she has a familiar, a big, beautiful blue jay on her shoulder.”
She let out a long breath. “Your turn, Kim.”
While she spoke, Glenn took a second to fill in “blue jay” under one of the two animal communication languages he was allowed as a gnome with a fourteen intelligence score. He wrote down “wolf” for the other, because it seemed like something they might run into and not want to fight.
Kim held up her character sheet and cleared her throat. “My character is human, a female in her early twenties named Byeol. That means ‘star’ in Korean. She wears gray robes that allow for ease of movement, and carries a spear and dagger. She will tell anyone who listens that she is a warrior monk. Her black hair reaches down to her waist, and is braided.”
Outpost: A LitRPG Adventure (Monsters, Maces and Magic Book 1) Page 2
