There were 8 of us at Daniel’s place, preparing to set off on
our Saturday-afternoon adventures in Upper Middle Earth, when
the doorbell rang. Dan (the DM for the day) went to answer it while
we unpacked our characters, Cokes, Cheetos, cupcakes, and all the
other equipment necessary for D&D.

We were setting up for one of our high-level adventures; there
was a rumor in the area where we lived of a new monster lair, in the
Firefall Mountains to the west, that held unparalleled treasures. We
had most of the known artifacts, but this sounded like something
different. We agreed it was going to be worth a try.

It was going to be too unwieldy for us to bring all our henchmen,
hirelings, and armies, so each of us brought only our main player
character, steed, and familiars as required. Joanna brought her
Paladin lady and her horse with the mithril barding, and managed to
get special dispensation from her church (The First Temple of Wonder
Woman) to bring all seven of her holy swords. Alan took his
storm giant and mattock of the titans, and led the party alongside
Jerry’s golden dragon character. Jerry griped a lot because he
couldn’t take Farrah, Kate, and Jacqueline, his henchdragons, but
Dan had been firm. Belinda got her brownie, her homonculous, and
her two golf-bags full of wands, staves, rods, and scepters and
saddled up her unicorn, riding beside George’s arch-Druid/Bard
and Isaac’s elven Ranger/Cleric/Magic-User with the mutant -horse
(he called it a Brute Horse or something) he’d gotten on another
plane. I took out my caveman and +5 vorpal battleaxe and became
the rear guard. Above us flew Margie and her Pegasus, serving as air 
cover and emergency medic (16th-level Clerics are much appreciated
in our group). Margie works as a nurse in the hospital
downtown, and she fit the clerical role well. Before setting out, we
agreed as a group to hold down psionics and we swore not to
summon any gods into the adventure; we’d been quested so many
times that we knew the Abyss like the backs of our hands.

The Day of the Dwarf
-
About the time we had unpacked the Cheetos and set up the
party formation for the march, Dan came back into the room with the
guy who was at the door and introduced him.

“Folks, this is Jack. He’s a D&D player who moved into the area
and I invited him over to get in on the action.” We introduced
ourselves and Jack smiled nervously, clutching a loose-leaf binder
full of papers and a cigar box that rattled. It turned out to be full of
miniatures. We had him get a place on the sofa next to the soft-drink
cooler, between Alan and Belinda. Jack gave a lot of funny looks at
the miniatures we were setting up in our marching order, especially
at the giant and dragon. Jerry caught his look and smiled at me with
an “aha, a neophyte” look.

“Am I allowed to bring in a character I used in another
campaign?” Jack asked, pulling a character sheet out of his
notebook.


“Let me see it,” said Dan from behind his judge’s desk. He took
the sheet and began looking it over, and then laughed. He then
made a note on the sheet and handed it back to Jack, who read it and
smiled.

“Thanks.”


“Don’t mention it,” said Dan. Jerry and I exchanged looks and
shrugged. He passed me a note that read, “Maybe he raised him a
few levels.” I didn’t think so; Dan was wild, but fair. If Jack was a 
low-level character, then he’d have to survive as best he could (with
our help, of course).

“On the way out of Battlecloud Galactica,” said Dan, referring to
our cloud-castle hideaway (the name was Alan’s idea), “you have an
encounter.” We weren’t surprised, and were told we saw a dwarf
walking along a path in the woods below.

At this point Jack placed his character’s miniature on the tabletop
and confirmed most of our suspicions. It was a dwarf with a sword
and shield, a colorful backpack, and chainmail. No other weapons
were visible on the figure. Daniel described the dwarf’s alignment as
true neutral when Margie checked. At best, the dwarf was ninth level,
unless he was a thief as well as a fighter. But the chainmail decided it
for us.

We hailed him and reintroduced ourselves as our characters. I
admit maybe we overdid it, showing off our powers and everything.
Jack seemed quite impressed. “Just what do you do for a living?”
asked Jerry, with a careless dragon-type yawn.

-
Jack shrugged and smiled. “Mostly I stay alive. I’ve been pretty
lucky so far.”

“I’ll say,” said Belinda, testing a wand on him. “You’re not
carrying any magical items.” She concentrated in his direction
briefly and frowned. “You’re not psionic, either.” Alan, Joanna,
George, and Isaac also confirmed the lack of psionics.

“You can go on an adventure with us if you want,” I said, twirling
my vorpal axe with the deftness that a 19 dexterity gives you. “I’d
recommend a place near the center of the party unless you’re
suicidal. We’re going into pretty mean territory. Probably a lot of
demons and beholders and liches and stuff like that.”

“Fine with me,” said Jack. “I’ll go wherever you people are
going.”

Isaac shook his head in amazement. “That’s a dwarf for ya.
Guts.”

It was a four-day journey to the Firefall Mountains, even at our
speed, and encounters began appearing with their usual frequency.
The first night out, a beholder (speak of the devil) tried to blast us
while we were camped out. Jerry laid a wave of fire across it and Alan
beat it into the ground with his mattock.

The two hundred orcs that swarmed in on us at dawn found
Belinda wide awake and her wands working overtime; we all had a
chance to get in on this one, even Jack (who insisted he not be left
out). He gave a remarkable account of himself, somehow managing
to escape unwounded though he slew twenty orcs. A pit fiend was
apparently leading them to us, and it got into a furious hand-to-hand
melee with Joanna (who had chopped her way through the orcs just
to meet it). The devil lost his head in the combat, however; Joanna
gleefully sheathed her vorpal blade and then went at the orcs with
her sword of sharpness. The battle ended about seven in the morning
and we prepared to be on our way. While Margie was passing out
doses from one of her seven staves of healing, we kidded each other
about the fight, especially Jack.

“You can always tell a happy dwarf by the pile of orcs he stands
on,” said George. George had gotten the worst of the melee, having
been used by the orcs as a trampoline.

Jack gave one of his now-characteristic smiles and didn’t answer
right away. “I’m just interested in staying alive. I figured you could
use a hand, though, and I couldn’t resist it with all the orcs around.”

“Hey, what level are you, anyway?” asked Isaac curiously. 

“That’s rude to ask,” replied Jack, “but I usually hit what I aim at."

This sparked my curiosity, too, because I was wondering how
Jack had managed to hit every single orc he’d swung at. No one but
Jack and Dan had seen his rolls to hit, which was one of our own
group rules for D&D. We made our saving throws and attack rolls on
Daniel’s desk so he could witness them and check them against the
charts in his guidebook. Some of us also used swords of unknown
power or weapons that we didn’t want anyone else to know about,
like Isaac’s sword that I suspected was actually Stormbringer. We all
trusted Dan, though we sometimes had doubts about each other.

Another curious thing was that Jack had killed each of those orcs
with a single blow, except one that had apparently lost all but one hit
point in a single stroke. I passed a note to Jerry to this effect, and he
wrote back that he suspected the dwarf’s broadsword was an artifact
of some kind. I’d thought as much, too, though it was still possible
that Jack’s character was rather lucky.

Our course took us through the middle of a swamp, which was
the DM’s playground. Suddenly, clakars swarmed in out of the mist
and beat the storm giant senseless. Dragon breath and twenty-hitdice
fireballs from George’s sickle of the druids filled the air. I found
myself wrestling a clakar without my battleaxe, and had to dodge
several swings of the same from the clakar that had taken it from me.
I choked to death the one I was wrestling and Isaac rode up and
lanced the other one with my axe, but he was snatched off his mutant
percheron by another. I was regretting our decision to ban psionics
(as perhaps we all were), but we fought off the attack and began to
regroup. It was then that we found Jack’s dwarf washing off in the
creek, after having slain three of the winged apes. He was smiling 
that secret smile of his, and didn’t appear to be seriously hurt at all. 

I wanted to nail him right there and ask him about his broadsword,
but we had more pressing business. Isaac was gone. Belinda
checked one of her weird artifacts (the one that had STARFLEET
COMMAND stamped on the side) and announced that the retreating
clakars were carrying Isaac toward one of the mountains in the
Firefall chain. Our work was cut out for us.

After raising the storm giant from the dead and reattaching my
left arm, we set off at a rapid pace. We bypassed a large camp of
bandits (though Joanna launched a meteor swarm into their midst
from a Ring of Spell Storing ) and also evaded some rocks thrown
from a previously unmarked group of hill giants. Joanna nearly left
us to do battle with them, but we convinced her otherwise because of
time considerations and she contented herself with a Wish that they
would all change alignment to lawful good. As we left, we watched
them haul down their banners of allegiance to Demogorgon and free
all their prisoners.

Two days later we stood at the foot of a bleak and forbidding
peak. We knew we’d arrived at the right place from the description
that Dan gave us of the chill in the air, the uncomfortable feeling of
unspoken and ancient evil. I could feel the adrenaline flow in my
veins. As we prepared to enter the mammoth caverns that Jerry
located in the mountainside, we made practice rolls with twentysided
dice and sat on the edge of our seats.

We entered the caves invisibly and silently, and sneaked past the
four Hydra and the Tyrannosaur chained by the entrance. George
began mapping and we moved through vast corridors and rooms,
past huge golem guards and various roving devils. Our luck ran out
when we rounded a corner and Dan told us one of the ten Ice Devils
we saw had seen us, apparently with its detect invisibility powers.

Combat was joined on the spot. Joanna began carving a highway
down through the devils with her vorpal blade (with the flaming
capability) and Jerry used two breaths of gas to clear the hall behind
us. Moments later more devils teleported in and there was a free-forall
that ended in part of the ceiling collapsing from a lightning bolt,
with Jerry being buried underneath the rubble.

I’d been hit by an ice storm twice and a winter wolf had me by the
leg; the rest of us weren’t much better off. Abruptly we all switched to
psionics and traded psionic blasts and psychic crushes with the
major devils left alive. Jack’s dwarf was standing in the way of the
psionics, battling two barbed devils, but he didn’t seem to be affected
in any way (though one blast killed a barbed). Once the
fighting died down for a couple of rounds, we found that Belinda’s
homonculous and brownie had been subjected to the old shake &
bake, and Margie’s Pegasus and the storm giant had been freezedried.
Everyone seemed to be hurt, and about a third of our magical
items were just so much burnt wood and melted metal. I finished off
the winter wolf and took charge of damage control. It was then that I
noticed the dwarf had only a couple of cuts and bruises from the
battle. Everyone else was down by half their hit points.

“Did you swallow a ring of regeneration or something?”. I asked,
not believing what I was told I was seeing. “Or does that sword of
yours drop your armor class to minus thirty?”

“Neither, really. I’m just lucky.”

“Damn,” I said. I looked at everyone else, made a decision, and I should say something here. As I said, Dan was fair, not only to
in my best heavy-thunder voice, said, “I think it’s time we cut loose us but to his monsters, too. And we’d never been able to successfully
on this place.” I then took off the amulet that gave me control over attack any demigod, god, demon prince or arch-devil in the past
my alter-ego, and I began to shapechange into a green-skinned giant without very heavy losses and many failures. We’d lost whole parties
with muscles the size of tree trunks. “I want to smash this place! Hulk in the past, of levels not much lower than our own now, tying to
has had it!”

I wasn’t really the Incredible Hulk, of course, but I was close. It
was the result of a tremendous burst of radiation I’d received on the
same alternate world where Isaac had gotten his Brute Horse. The
amulet was something Belinda made, and gave me the self-control
to keep from wrecking everything. I had some weird form of epilepsy
when I became “the Hulk” and Dan would pass me notes telling me
what I had to do (like “Start knocking down the building” or “Run
off in a random direction”).

Dan wrote me a note as soon as I took off the amulet, and I had to
start stomping down the corridor, attacking everything I met and
turning it to oatmeal. Before I was out of sight, everyone else had
gotten out their stuff, too. Joanna pulled out the magic rope she’d
gotten from Wonder Woman herself, Belinda shouldered her phaser
rifle and pulled out her disintegration grenades, George whipped
out his light-saber (and brown cloak) and Margie lifted her Mace of
Almighty Destruction. They charged on behind me, having sent the
remains of everyone else to the clone tanks on Battlecloud
Galactica.

We overran everything we met and finally found ourselves outside
an immense steel doorway. I grabbed the doorhandles, ignoring
the powerful magical jolts I got from them, and tore the door off. We
rushed inside . . .

. . . and froze in our tracks. We were looking into a vast and
beautiful throneroom, with chandeliers of purest ruby and great
columns of diamond and other precious gems. And Asmodeus sat at
the end of the room, toying with that super-rod of his. Ten pit fiends
stood on either side of him, and at his feet was Isaac, tied up and
missing all his equipment.

I should say something here.  As I said, Dan was fair, not only to 
us but to his monsters, too.  And we'd never been able to successfully 
attack any demigod, god, demon prince or arch-devil in the past 
without very heavy losses and many failures.  We'd lost whole parties 
in the past, of levels not much lower than our own now, trying to 
make Demogorgon's palace or something like that.  

Dan played Asmodeus to the hilt. “Welcome,” he said quietly. “I
confess that I hadn’t expected you so soon, but no matter.”
Asmodeus beckoned us closer with a wave of his great left hand.
“I’ve already been enjoying the company of a friend of yours. I’ve
tried being a good host but he doesn’t seem to appreciate it very
well.” He shrugged. “No matter. Perhaps you’ll be more
courteous.”'

We were in a sweat. We had no preparation time and had
thought we’d already beaten the best that was here. Joanna had
replaced the amulet on my neck so I wouldn’t be tempted to jump
Asmodeus; she announced this none too soon as Dan was preparing
another note, probably to that effect. None of us had any doubt that
the room was antimagical, and we hadn’t enough hit points or
psionic power left to fight the Duke of Hell and his henchdevils. He
didn’t appear to want to kill us outright, so we waited and tried to
think of a way out.

“I UnderstoodThere was some huge treasure down here,” said
Jack in a remarkably calm voice. Until the moment he spoke, I’d
forgotten he was even in the party with us.

Asmodeus nodded. “A most effective rumor, planted by my
agents in your city. I’ve been keeping tabs on you since you raided
one of my underlings, Geyon. You slew an Assassin of the Gods and
twenty-eight devils to recover some artifact, about a year ago. I
rarely forget a debt owed.”

“That wasn’t entirely of our own free will,” Belinda said. “We
were quested by Mitra.”

“Truly spoken. I’d possibly consider allowing you your freedom
if you would each repudiate your deities and declare yourselves to 
be my own true followers.” He picked up some papers beside his
throne and held them out to us. “All that would be required would
be your signatures. I’ve provided a small pin with each document for
you to, ah, extract the ink necessary to sign.”

That got to Joanna the Paladiness like nothing else.

“I’d sooner walk through the Plane of Fire in gasoline armor than
sign your accursed paper!” The rest of us exchanged looks (Joanna
really got into being lawful good-or, as we sometimes called it,
“awful good”). We decided to go with the flow.

“No deal,” I said, knowing there were now long shadows cast on
our immediate futures.

Asmodeus stood, his ruby sceptre leveled in our direction. “I see
that while you are all possessed of immense courage, you are also as
impolite a group of guests as your friend here.” He sighed. “Now, as
for your dispositions . . . ”

“I have a suggestion,” said Jack. “Why don’t we roll dice to
determine our fate? If I can roll higher than you on percentile dice,
three times in a row, then we go free.”

We were a bit stunned, the rest of us, but we couldn’t think of
anything better. Asmodeus (Dan) smiled broadly and laughed.

“Excellent! You show a remarkable amount of courage yourself.
Very well, if you win, then you shall be teleported from this place to
that cloud of yours. If I win . . . well, let’s worry about that when it
happens. Here’s your dice.” Dan tossed Jack a single ten-sided die.
“You get that one die. I get two, for the full range of one to one
hundred.”

“That’s not fair!” yelled Joanna.

“I don’t think anyone said anything about fair,” said Asmodeus.
Dan motioned Jack to come up and roll his die on the tabletop, and
everyone else got up to watch the rolls. Dan kept Asmodeus’s rolls
secret, however. “Ties do not count,” Dan added. The game began.

The first roll gave Jack a seven. Dan threw his dice, looked, and
announced,” Asmodeus rolls a zero six.”

We felt pretty good about that, though the chances were slim of
our luck continuing to hold like that. the second roll produced a five
from Jack and a zero-two from Asmodeus, and we began to feel
giddy. We weren’t sure if the rolls were really coming up that way,
but if Dan said they did, it was fine with us. I wondered if the dwarf
had been blessed or had a lot of gambling skill.

On the last roll, Jack got a two, and we listened in silence as Dan
rolled, and called out, “Zero one.”

We acted kind of silly then, cheering and all, but Dan took up
Asmodeus’s role again, with none of the finery and polite talk that
had preceded the dice game for our souls.

“Indeed, fate seems to have been with you. I keep my word, as
always, and you shall be immediately teleported out of here, physically
sound. But I will not forget you, particularly you, dwarf, and I
will seek you out when you least expect it, when your precious luck
has run out at last. Then you will know me as your master, and
experience my rage.” He waved his great hands at us, uttered some
arcane words, and we popped back to Battlecloud Galactica (without
our magical items, of course). We untied Isaac, and the adventure
was over.

Except for one issue.

“Were you really rolling that low?” I asked Dan. “I can’t believe
that you actually came up with what you did.”

Dan smiled and looked at Jack, who also smiled. Jack motioned
to Dan and said, “I think you’d better tell them.”

“Jack and I know each other from way back. We ran the D&D
games in our hometown before I moved here. We used to have a
pretty wild group, and we did a lot of experimentation with the rules
and the game. Jack was playing a character he used in one of our
campaigns; I figured that as powerful as you people were, it couldn’t
hurt too much. I really couldn’t resist.” He picked up his copy of
Gods, Demi-Gods, and Heroes and leafed through it. <link>

Aboard the Battlecloud Galactica, a room full of people looked at
the dwarf in the chainmail, and at his broadsword, and asked. “Just
who are you, anyway” We hadn’t asked him his name because
we’d assumed he wouldn’t live through the adventure.

The dwarf smiled shyly and said, “They call me Bes.”