Page 5 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

“Boulders,” I repeat. “Massive boulders.”

It’s been the four of us every Saturday night for... well, as far back as Iwantto remember. Being an awkward, geeky kid whospends a significant amount of time thinking of the subtle differences in temperaments between green dragons and blue dragons is a lot more fun when you have friends who do the same.

Leela and I met playing D&D online in sixth grade, and luckily when my parents took me to our designated meeting point at the library months later, she actually was a twelve-year-old girl who lived in Long Beach just like me. Yobani was a kid that kept making fun of our big Monster Manuals at the Mother’s Beach summer day camp, and eventually we realized it was because he wanted to look through them with us instead of kayaking. And we met Greg at a game shop in Lakewood when he informed us we were buying “the dice of amateurs” and offered his expertise. It was like one of those “getting the gang together” montages in the Fast & Furious movies, except we were all in various stages of orthodontic work and way, way less cool.

Greg used to be the Dungeon Master for our group, but he was constantly trying to make us act out the fantasy novel he’s been working on since, basically, birth. So we booted him from the role and I took his place. Except no one had the nerve to, like, fully kick him out.

“Okay, I will suspend my disbelief and go along with these... boulders,” Greg sniffs.

I take a bite of one of the massive chocolate chip cookies Greg’s mom always sends with him in a Tupperware. They might have something to do with why we tolerate his “innocent suggestions.”

“Your eyes are drawn to the center of the room,” I continue, “where Slarog’s fabled treasure lies, sparkling with light, eventhough the grand chamber is shrouded in darkness. Large chests, more than you can count, spill over with coins and a rainbow of jewels. And in the center of it all, perched on top of a gold pedestal, is what you are seeking, adventurers: the Chalice of Rejuvenation.”

“Yes!” Yobani calls out, pumping his fist. Leela gasps, and even Greg, I note with satisfaction, looks excited.

This is the payoff I was hoping for, after all the time it’s taken to get here and all the work I’ve put into this story. Last Saturday, they’d finally retrieved the Queen’s Heart from the Tomb of Odall. And now they’ve just got the Chalice of Rejuvenation left to steal and return to the wizard Zorciar so he’ll lift the plague he cast over their village.

Zorciar is about to ghost them as soon as they give him the goods, so they’re not as close to the end of this campaign as they think. But only I know that right now.

“I don’t know, you guys,” Leela says, shaking her head. Her long, shiny black hair falls forward, and she scoops it back around her right shoulder. “I find it hard to believe that no one has stopped us so far? I mean, we just strolled right through his garden. That was weird, right? This feels a little too easy.”

I nod and press my fingers together in a steeple. “It sounds like you want to—”

“Perception check,” she says, picking out a d20 from her pile of sparkly lavender dice. She rolls a twelve.

“Walona uses her darkvision to peer around the vault and spots movement on the far end of the chamber. There are wyverns patrolling! But luckily they cannot see you, adventurers, becauseof the invisibility spell that Walona cast before you descended the stairs.”

“I knew it,” Leela says, and it’s taking all I’ve got to keep a mask of indifference on my face. Her roll was high enough for me to reveal the wyverns, but not high enough for me to reveal that Slarog, the cloud giant himself, lurks in the mist above their heads, watching and waiting.

“I’m going in,” Greg says, his eyes narrowed in determination. “The longer we wait here, the more likely it is that we’ll be found out. We’ve put too much into this to not act now.”

“Gruly, you need to chill,” Yobani snorts. He’s rocking his chair on the two back legs, a smirk on his face. His favorite part of Saturday nights, easily, is fucking with Greg. “You’re always trying to swoop in the save the day, when no one asked you to cape for us. Do you remember what happened at The Mighty Worm? Almost blew up the whole tavern with—”

“Gruldaito, still protected by Walona’s invisibility spell, moves toward the chalice.”

“Roll for stealth,” I instruct, but Greg is already throwing his dice. Eighteen. He throws his hands up in celebration. Yobani shakes his head and takes another handful of Hot Cheetos.

“Gruldaito creeps closer to the chalice, his footsteps making no sound,” I say.

“I’m gonna go for it,” Greg says, all pumped up like he’s about to jump into a boxing match. Leela leans forward in anticipation.

“All right.” I rub my hands together. “Roll for sleight of hand.”

Greg throws the d20 again, and I swear I see his soul leave hisbody when it lands. One.

“Critical fail!” Yobani yells, his face full of delight even though this hurts him, too. Greg puts his head in his hands. Leela reaches forward and pats his shoulder sympathetically while Yobani cackles.

“You knock the chalice to the ground, and the loud clang echoes throughout the chamber. You hear the flapping wings of wyverns as they fly closer, and the mist above your heads begins to grow thicker, darker. It encircles you—”

“Oh, shit,” Leela mutters.

“I told you, Gruly!” Yobani shouts with glee.

“‘Who dares to enter my chamber?’” I say. I pound the table to accentuate each syllable, all extra, and make my voice deep and loud. Man, doing the voices is my favorite part. “Slarog’s words make your bones rattle, your blood run cold. His solid form appears out of the mist, towering above you, sixteen feet tall. Though he can’t see you yet, he feels your presence. ‘Show yourselves and prepare to die,’ he commands. What do you do next, adventurers?”

I scan their faces, and Yobani and Greg are right there with me, eyes wide and mouths dropped open. But Leela is looking at her phone, and I’m a little annoyed, because I’ve put so much into this campaign. It’s taken us months to get to this point. What could possibly be happening on her phone that’s more important?

“I say we run,” Greg suggests.

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