literature

Game Night

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

Shake.
Toss.
Clatter.
Let’s see that’s thirteen plus six. Nineteen.
Nineteen. That’s a hit.
The paladin swings his sword and nearly shears the griffin’s wing off.
Okay, now it’s his turn.
Another player picks up the small plastic jewel.
Twenty sides.
Icosahedron.
Shake.
Toss.
Clatter.
A natural one. That’s a miss.
The wizard’s spell fizzles in her hand.
The master sits across from us, behind his screen.
The griffin attacks the paladin.
Shake.
Toss.
Clatter.
Natural twenty. That’s a critical.
The griffin’s claws rip the paladin’s mail, leaving deep, almost fatal wounds.
How many HP do I have?
You’re not dead yet.
I hope the cleric heals me on his turn.
Shake.
Toss.
Clatter.
I wrote this poem with last week's Dungeons and Dragons game in mind. I was the paladin. Thinking of expanding on this somewhat, using the dice and players as metaphors for random chance and predestination and the like. Concerned that that might be a bit too heavy-handed though.

As always, feedback is appreciated and welcome!
© 2009 - 2024 Zousha
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