MB Short Story: Game Night's Downfall (Patreon)

After three months, his invention was finally perfect.

Three months of intense emotional and physical labor. Of late nights and early mornings, and of two-minute breaks squeezed between downtime at work. Three months of sneaking out bits and bobs that he’d printed without permission on the 3d printer in the R&D lab. Three months of skipping lunch so he could similarly use Aeon’s resources to take laser renderings of plastic figurines, transferring the scans to a thumb drive that he could take home.

In those three months, Taliaferro Parker had birthed a kingdom.

When he proudly declared as much (verbatim) to those assembled around Nick Wiseman’s kitchen table, they stared at him skeptically.

“You did what with lab resources?” Ambrose Kim demanded.

Nick pouted. “What was wrong with the old map?”

“For one, it was doodled in crayon,” Sally said.

“Well, excuse me for not having your art skills,” Nick sniffed. “Origami isn’t my forte; that pop-up inn took hours to fold.”

“Was that the inn that Ellery’s sorcerer burned down?” Grayson asked.

Nick nodded morosely, but Ellery only shrugged. “Bad roll on a wild magic surge,” she justified. “Not my fault.”

“See, this is why we banned you from playing a spellcaster this campaign,” Sally told her.

Ellery smiled back ominously in a way that didn’t bode well for the group surviving to Level Five. "I'm sure nothing similar will happen with my artificer."

Glitch cleared his throat, but no one heard him over their conversation.

“Maybe I should try a wizard this time,” Gray mused. “Is it too late to alter my character sheet?”

“Parker, explain why you thought it was appropriate to use Unity’s resources for a tabletop game?”

"Hold up. An artificer? Don't they make bombs?"

"Should've been Kim's class."

“You’d be a terrible wizard, Gray. Stick to being a paladin or cleric like always.”

“Better a wizard than a barbarian. Remember last campaign?”

“He was too polite to rage.”

“Unlike Kent. I did not anticipate him murdering half the party.”

“It’s always the quiet ones.”

“It’s unfair, is what it is! A druid isn’t supposed to—”

Glitch looked pointedly at Kent, who nodded and raised two fingers to his lips. At his shrill, high whistle, the group fell silent.

“Thank you, Kenzie,” Glitch said primly. “Now, if y’all would stop yammering and pay attention, I have something with which to awe and astound.” He gently placed his invention—a black box of approximately two cubic feet—on the center of the oblong table.

“Assistant!” Glitch snapped his fingers in Kent’s direction. “The lights, if you please.”

Kent stood from the table and walked over to the kitchen light switch. Turning off the chandelier made zero difference, however, due to the late afternoon sun streaming in through the bay windows.

Glitch sighed. “Nick, do you mind closing the blinds?”

Once Nick had drawn the curtains, the room dimmed enough to discern a pale blue glow emanating from previously indiscernible seams along four of the box’s six sides.

“Embark with me, my dearest friends,” Glitch solemnly declared, “to a land of might, magic, and everything in between. To a fantasy where dryads defend their trees and where dragons debate philosophy. Where a party of unassuming adventurers has been summoned—”

“Has the game already started?” Sally asked Ellery in an overloud whisper.

Glitch scowled at her and raised his voice. “WHERE a party of unassuming adventures—”

“That’s our characters, right?” Gray asked.

“Where-a-party-of-unassuming-adventures-has-been-summoned-by-the-Archmage-Groguthum-to-undertake-a-perilous-mission,” Glitch quickly finished without taking a breath. He glared at Gray. “Yes, that party consists of your characters. Any other interruptions, or may I continue?”

“Sorry,” Gray said, looking genuinely contrite.

Sally, on the other hand, snorted. “What’s eating Gilbert Grape?” she asked Kent.

“It’s Ferro’s first time as a dungeon master,” Kent replied calmly. “He’s nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!” Glitch huffed. “I’m annoyed because I put a lot of effort into this campaign.” He slouched down in his chair and crossed his arms petulantly. “Whatever. Odyssey, activate.”

At his vocal command, the black box unfolded. Like a self-unwrapping birthday present, it flattened itself across the table. The glow brightened, projecting upwards to create towering trees and delicate spires with balconies filled with Lego-sized people that waved cheerily at the stunned humans situated around the table. Glitch had programed a virtual elven city, transformed it into a hologram, and fit it inside an automated box.

Sally squealed and pointed to a forested area at the bottom of the map, where six tiny, holographic figures sat around an equally tiny campfire. “Are those us?” She leaned in closer, eyes shining with curiosity and delight. “Oh my gosh, they are! Look at my little tiefling ranger! I’m sooo cute!”

“And so modest,” Ellery teased. She glanced over at Glitch. “This is fantastic. How did you put all this together?”

Glitch waved a hand, brushing aside the compliment even as he beamed with pleasure. “Pshaw,” he proudly proclaimed. “It was nothing.”

“It’s better than my crayon map,” Nick conceded. “By far.”

Ambrose frowned. “The use of technology is innovative, I admit. But using Unity resources for a hobby still falls outside of—”

“Ambrose?” Ellery said.

“Yes, dear?”

“Shut up and appreciate our friend’s hard work.”

Ambrose’s lips pursed together, although it looked as if he were biting back more words.

“That’s right, Ambrose,” Glitch teased. “Listen to your girlfriend. During game night, we’re friends.”

Ambrose opened his mouth to refute Glitch’s claim, only to remain silent at Ellery’s warning glare.

“Did you develop all this yourself?” Grayson asked, running his hand through one of the palace spires. “It’s truly impressive.”

“Of course it’s impressive,” Glitch said, abandoning any pretense of modesty. “I designed it.”

“Cheers to the new Dungeon Master,” Nick said, raising his beer bottle. “I couldn’t be happier with my replacement.”

“To the new Dungeon Master!” everyone else around the table echoed, raising their own drinks. Even Ambrose, although not committing to the cheer aloud, took a small sip of his own hard cider.

“By the way,” Ellery commented after the toast. “Nick, this is your first reprieve from being DM, but you never told us what class you were playing.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Nick grinned at his sister wickedly. “I am, after all, incredibly charming. A master of seduction, whose handsome face and dulcet tones can convince even dragons to—”

“Shit,” Sally groaned. “He’s a bard.”

Kent let out a heavy sigh.

“Definitely a bard,” Grayson agreed with a sigh identical to Kent’s.

“God help us all,” Ambrose said grimly. “Shall we begin?”