The Game Masters of Garden Place

by Denis Markell

  Mirak used her strong fingernails to try to pry the frame loose. It held tight. “Now, how to take the map with us?” she asked.

  “The frame seems to be glued to the wall, and I bet the glass is shatterproof,” said Cammi mournfully.

  Torgrim stepped forward and raised his hammer. “We shall see about that.”

  “Wait!” Ralph shouted. “We don’t want to damage anything! No one should know we were here.”

  Gerontius arched an eyebrow. “Young mistress Johnna. I seem to recall your magic box has the power to take and hold images within it?”

  Jojo laughed. “Of course it does.” She held up her phone and snapped a picture of it. “That was an easy one.”

  “Now all we have to do is get you guys down those stairs,” Ralph said. He tried the door. It was locked, of course.

  “Now what?” said Jojo.

  “I will break the door with my hammer,” announced Torgrim.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” said Ralph.

  “Why not?” asked Mirak. “He breaks doors down all the time.”

  “I know,” Ralph said, thinking of all the dungeons and castles he’d gotten into in the game using Torgrim’s Magic Hammer spell. “But I think the noise would call attention to us. And that’s not what we need right now.”

  “So we’re stuck,” Cammi said, and sat down on the floor.

  Ralph peered at the lock. It was a regular key lock, not one that needed a card. This was obviously from when the hotel was first built and hadn’t been fitted with the newer locks.

  Bram cocked his head and looked at Persephone’s hair. “That’s quite a complicated braid, my little rogue. How do you keep it in place, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Persephone turned pink. “It’s not that complicated, but you do need hairpins.”

  “Ah, just as I thought!” the halfling said. “Could I trouble you for one of them?”

  Persephone reached behind her head and tugged. She handed a metal hairpin to Bram, who looked delighted.

  Ralph nodded. He knew exactly what a rogue could do with a pin like that. But that was in the other world. “Do you really think you can use that to—”

  Before he could finish the sentence, Bram had inserted the pin into the lock of the door handle, twisted a few times, and turned the handle. It opened. He turned to the others and bowed.

  “You’ve got to teach me that,” Noel said as he passed Bram to head down the stairs. One by one, they went into the darkness. Ralph peered in.

  “I don’t suppose there are any torches about?” asked Mirak hopefully.

  Cammi, Persephone, and Noel all reached for their phones and turned on the flashlight function. The stairwell was filled with beams of light.

  “Shouldn’t we look for a light switch?” asked Jojo.

  “I think you should leave it dark if possible,” Ralph reasoned, “just in case security comes around. Or if someone else comes down to use the stairs. This way they’ll have to switch on the lights and you’ll know they’re coming.”

  Nine heads nodded, lit from below by the lights from their phones.

  Gerontius shook his head. “Such useful items. Would that we had such magic in our world.”

  They headed to the basement. Ralph looked after them. “I’ll see you inside!” he said, and closed the door. He checked it, and the locking mechanism had reset.

  Ralph reached into his pocket and looked at the golden twenty-sided die. His friends would be making their way through darkened tunnels, but he had an adventure of his own to complete. He headed back to the ballroom to meet it.

  Ralph walked quickly by the registration desk, avoiding Gary Beard, who was surrounded by an admiring group of staff, busy retelling the story of the insane cosplayers who almost stole membership badges and his bravery in calling security.

  When he reached the door, Ralph flashed his badge to the security person, who nodded and let him pass. He checked his watch—ten minutes to noon. He would need to find the Mages of the Midwest soon. And hope it was somewhere close to where his friends were going to emerge.

  He quickly scanned the enormous high-ceilinged ballroom. Tables of merchandise lined the outer walls, and a second row filled in the center. He passed by tables laden with the kind of things he normally could have spent hours happily enthralled in. There were meticulously crafted miniatures of various character types typical of Reign of Dragons at one table. Nearby, someone had constructed glorious three-dimensional maps of dungeons and castles and taverns, with fireplaces and tiny torches that lit up, all for sale.

  Ralph passed tables of T-shirts with corny slogans like ASK ME ABOUT MY CHARISMA SCORE and THAT’S JUST THE WAY WE ROLL.

  On other tables people were selling their own adventure modules, stories you could use with your group. It seemed like anything you could want related to Reign of Dragons was here. Someone was even selling fake swords and shields and amulets, to help those who liked to dress up as their character.

  At the end of the long line of tables, Ralph stopped. The person manning the last table was dressed as a fearsome orc, with blood streaming down his disgusting jaws. The fact that the orc was presently pouring the remains of a bag of corn chips down his or her throat took away some of the effect.

  Just as Ralph was about to ask where he could find the Mages of the Midwest area, he looked straight ahead and laughed out loud.

  It was hard to miss. At the very end of the ballroom, there were a few hundred seats set up, facing a raised stage. On the stage was a huge sign with the logo for Mages of the Midwest, a dragon seated upon a giant golden bejeweled throne.

  On the far left side of the stage were seven chairs. On the far right was a small lectern with a microphone. What was in the middle, however, was what caused Ralph to gasp out loud.

  They had built a perfect scale model of the Komach’Kreel. Standing over twelve feet tall, the monster looked even more fearsome than Ralph had pictured it. Its face was frozen in a snarl, its crimson eyes open in fury, and its tail pulled back as if ready to strike. Making it must have cost a fortune.

  “Please take your seats, as the ceremony is about to begin,” a voice said from the lectern, and Ralph noted that most of the seats were already filled. There were kids his age with their dads, lots of young people in their twenties, and, scattered among them, more than a few gray-haired older guys, with more than a few ponytails. Every ten seats or so he spotted someone dressed as their character.

  Ralph took one of the few remaining seats and wondered where the adventurers were. Had they gotten lost? They had a map, it was true, but he knew from the game that one wrong turn could waste valuable time.

  “Welcome to RoDCon! We are so thrilled to have you!” said the man at the microphone. Ralph squinted and realized it was the man in the picture on the website.

  “For those who haven’t met me, I’m Andy Wycroft, and yes, my dad, Warwick, was the man responsible for creating Reign of Dragons.”

  A huge cheer went up from the crowd. Andy bowed. He was a part of history. Anyone who knew about the game knew that he’d been one of the very first players when his father was developing it. Unlike the casually dressed audience, he was in an elegant black suit, which was beautifully tailored to his slim frame. He had the same high forehead as his father, and jet-black hair, combed stylishly back, with a matching goatee.

  “I am so pleased to be here for such an awesome celebration. The special fortieth-anniversary edition of the Search for the Seven Serpent Scepter module was a huge success, selling more than three million copies worldwide.”

  More cheers interrupted Andy. He pumped his fist in the air. Ralph looked around. The others should have been here by now.

  “Now, as you know, this campaign historically has been impossible to finish,” Andy continued. “What with everyone ending up meeting…who, again?”


  Laughter from the audience.

  Andy then gestured toward the giant statue behind him. “Oh, yes. Say hello to my little friend!”

  More laughter and applause. Andy consulted a list in his hands. “Now we come to the reason we’ve gathered. To meet those game masters intrepid enough to have guided their forces all the way into the Temple of Kamach’Ldar and gathered the first six serpents. Each of these masters was sent a golden die, and we are happy to say that all of them appear to be here.”

  Andy peered out into the audience. “Would they please come up onstage and take their places as I call their names?”

  Ralph hadn’t really thought about a ceremony. He hoped it wouldn’t be too embarrassing.

  “Kerry Bremen, please come up!”

  A pale, skinny teenager climbed onto the stage to the whoops of his friends. He must be a local, Ralph decided, to have his posse with him.

  “Douglas Hamilton…Fumio Harikawa…Octavi Navarro…Marcus Cooper…”

  As the men of different ages got up, it was clear this was an international group. Mages of the Midwest had spared no expense. Andy was down to the last two names.

  “Declan Rogers…”

  Ralph could barely believe it. Declan? Here?

  “And Ralph Ginzberg! Please come up and join us!”

  Ralph felt a flush in his cheeks as he walked up the aisle to the last remaining seat. He was given a tremendous high five from Declan.

  Over the applause of the crowd, Declan turned to him, a huge smile on his face. “Dude! RPG! I should have guessed I’d see you up here! This is amazing, right?”

  “Unbelievable,” Ralph said, meaning it.

  “Gentlemen, please bring your golden dice one at a time up to the altar,” Andy said.

  Now that he was onstage, Ralph could see that there was a small oval table directly under the statue. There were seven small indentations in the table, each one meant for one die.

  “We will start with the d4 die, followed by the d6, d8, d10, the percentile d10…”

  As each die was called, the person holding it came up and placed it carefully in its proper place on the altar. Declan had the d12 and went up. That left Ralph.

  Andy turned to him. “Finally, the young man with the golden d20.”

  As he crossed the stage and went to the altar, Ralph had the oddest sensation. The die in his hand had started to glow. He held it tightly and felt it getting hotter and hotter the closer it came to the other dice, and it felt as if it were pulling him toward it.

  He stood before the altar and paused.

  He looked over at Andy, who was staring at the glowing die in his hand.

  “What are you waiting for?” Andy hissed. “Put it where it belongs.”

  Ralph looked at the die. It was now almost too hot to hold.

  Then two things suddenly happened, one after the other.

  First a man stood up in the audience. “Do not put that with the others!” the man commanded.

  Ralph noted with a start that he had seen the man before. It was the beggar from State Street.

  “You’re too late!” said Andy as he grabbed the die from Ralph’s hand. Just then, a crashing noise was heard from somewhere behind the statue on the stage. All heads turned to see a trapdoor being smashed open by a hammer from below. Out sprang Torgrim, followed by Jandia, Gerontius, and Mirak, with Ralph’s four friends taking up the rear.

  A murmur went up through the crowd, and then applause. They obviously thought this was part of the show.

  Ralph turned to look at Andy, who didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised to see the interlopers.

  “Well, you certainly took your time,” Andy said easily.

  Jandia saw the Komach’Kreel and quickly drew her sword.

  “Stay your blade,” Gerontius said. “It is but a statue.”

  Torgrim and Bram were arguing. “If you’d had a small dram of patience, Cleric, I would have had that lock.”

  The wizard was oblivious, his gray eyes locked on Andy. He stood stock-still, as if in shock.

  “And if I had four hooves and a mane, I’d be a stallion,” grunted the dwarf. “You were taking forever, and we needed to get here.”

  Mirak pushed past them and joined Gerontius at the front of the stage. She turned pale at the sight of Andy.

  “Lord Andromodus! Here?”

  As Andy bowed, Ralph began to put things together.

  Andy.

  Short for Andromodus.

  Andy, or Andromodus, gave a polite bow. “I am so glad to see you again, my loyal subjects.” He held out his hand. “I believe you have certain objects I requested that you bring me.”

  “I think not,” Gerontius said. He turned and looked to the old beggar, who had come to the foot of the stage. “Good sir, I suspect you are the cause of our being here. For what purpose?”

  Before the man could answer, Ralph stepped toward him. “You…you’re Warwick Wycroft, aren’t you?”

  A murmur went through the audience, along with scattered applause, as the adventurers turned and stared at Wycroft, wide-eyed.

  “The Wizard Wycroft! It cannot be!” gasped Torgrim, going down on one knee.

  “What sorcery is this?” exclaimed Gerontius.

  Declan looked confused as he and the other GMs scrambled off the stage.

  “Get out of here, humans!” Andromodus said.

  Wycroft sighed. “I wish you’d stop talking like that, Andy. You’re human too!”

  “Not for long, Father!” Andromodus said. “And stop calling me Andy! I am Andromodus, wizard of the highest level! You said so yourself!”

  “In the game, Andy,” Wycroft said. “Now stop this nonsense.”

  “We shall see what nonsense it is when I have brought together all seven serpents!” said Andy. “My power is greater than you think! After thirty years, an adventuring force has finally found the hidden serpent.”

  Ralph turned to Andy. “What hidden serpent? What are you talking about?”

  “I was afraid of this,” Wycroft said. “It is no good, Andy. You cannot control the scepter.”

  “I am the one who summoned them to this world!” snarled Andromodus. “And I didn’t even need to bring them to me. You did that!”

  “Yes, I did,” Wycroft said. “But not to help you. To call you out and to fight you once and for all.”

  “They cannot fight me,” Andy said. “Once I have the serpent in hand…”

  Ralph was frantically scanning the room. The Golden Serpent had to be here somewhere. If he could get to it…It must have something to do with the dice.

  Bram stepped forward. “Good Andromodus, you are quite mistaken. We do not have the serpents with us. Sadly, we have left them in the temple. If you wish to send us back to retrieve them—”

  “You lie, Rogue!” Andromodus said. “Look!”

  The pockets of Gerontius’s cloak and robe were moving as if being pulled by invisible hands. He muttered something under his breath and gestured with his arms. This did nothing. The wizard looked as if he were being dragged toward the altar.

  “The six serpents seek their sister,” Andy said in triumph.

  “That’s a mouthful!” said Noel. “Try saying that five times fast!”

  “Shut up. This is serious!” Jojo said.

  “You see, Father? Their spells are useless here.”

  “You still have your swords!” Persephone called out.

  Jandia charged forward, and then suddenly the oddest thing happened. She seemed to hit some sort of hard barrier before reaching Andy, who stood, impassive.

  “One of your earliest spells, Father. I believe the Barrier of Safety was in the first edition of the game,” Andromodus laughed.

  Gerontius was almost at the altar.


  Ralph knew he had to do something. He thought of the golden d20; the twenty-sided charm had summoned the heroes to this world. There it was, glowing on the altar.

  Transfixed, Ralph grabbed the die.

  The room began to hum.

  Andy whirled around. “Don’t do that! Do not play with things you do not understand!”

  “Go for it!” yelled Noel.

  “I hope this works,” Cammi whispered.

  Ralph thought what he should ask for. “I roll for return of powers,” he declared. The die rolled onto the altar, with the number 20 faceup. A critical hit. The hum was now deafening. The people in the audience were holding their ears. The stage began to rumble. There was a peal of thunder.

  “You little brat! I hate you!” wailed Andy.

  “He has unleashed the old magic!” said Warwick, smiling.

  Gerontius fell back. He pulled his orb out of one of his sleeves. It was practically jumping from his hand, bright red beams shooting out from its center.

  Torgrim intoned, “I call upon my god to smite the enemy’s defenses.”

  A crackling bolt of energy shot from his hammer and surrounded Andy. There was a shattering noise as the barrier was breached.

  Jandia moved forward with a snarl. “For those of my tribe who died at your hands!”

  Mirak joined her, bow in hand, arrow nocked. “For all of Demos!”

  Andy sighed. “You thought I would not have prepared for this?” He moved toward the altar and grabbed the d20.

  “Now I believe it is my turn!” said Andy, throwing it on the table. “For I am the game master here! Roll for awakening!”

  He threw the dice down, and it rolled slowly, finally landing faceup on 5. Andy bumped the table, and the die hopped up and landed on 20.

  “That’s cheating!” said Noel.

  “I play by my own rules!” Andy answered, stepping back.

  Ralph felt a sickening sensation as the floor began to wave and buckle, throwing him and his friends off their feet. He looked up to see what was causing this.

  He was staring into the eyes of the Komach’Kreel, which was slowly coming to life.

  Before he could stop himself, Ralph cried out. “What sorcery is this?”