The Dice of Destiny

     Jacques looked up from where he was scrutinising a map of the west Coral Sea with his companions, one eyebrow raised at the boisterous Usul standing in the doorway. For once, the boisterous Usul in question wasn’t Garin – he was standing next to Jacques, with a finger still resting where the map marked the seaport nearest to Faerieland. And yet, by this point in the voyage, the outburst didn’t really phase either of them.

     After taking a moment to absorb the words, Jacques dryly said, “We’re on a pirate ship, Hannah. The only buckles here are for keeping our sword belts on.”

     Hannah folded her arms and leaned against the doorway with a playful smirk. “Buckle those up, then. It’ll help with immersion.”

     This whole thing had started about two weeks ago, when the Black Pawkeet’s crew had decided to take a friendly visit to Maraqua. Garin had gone off with Isca to explore the ruins of Old Maraqua, where they’d stumbled upon a deep cave that a collapsing structure had recently opened up. Inside, they’d found a creepy statue of some weird tentacle monster. Isca swore she could sense some sort of evil magic coming off of it, so Garin decided to call for backup from an acquaintance who had experience with mysterious treasures of the possibly-cursed variety.

     That was how Hannah ended up on the ship. Once she’d reached Old Maraqua, though, she took one look at the thing, declared it “super cursed,” and decided she needed help from professionals in magical artefact wrangling to safely dispose of the statue. So now Garin’s backup had backup, and everyone had come to agree that their best bet was to take the thing to Faerieland, where Fyora could deal with it.

     That was what they were doing now. The statue was down in the Pawkeet’s hold, meticulously wrapped in silver-lined warded cloth, but they were still a few days out from the mainland. Brynn and Hanso, Hannah’s “professionals,” planned to transfer it to a secure cart for the last leg of the journey as soon as they made landfall.

     None of this would have explained Hannah’s sudden decision to rope everybody into a game of Neoquest, except that she was easily bored. With all of this back-and-forth travel, she’d found countless ways to entertain herself and the others when they weren’t busy with the work of sailing or trying to move spooky statues without getting cursed. At least this latest diversion sounded better than the time she tried a song and dance number on one of the galley tables.

     Garin, apparently, disagreed. “Immersion?” he asked. “Like Jacques said, we’re on a pirate ship. Most of us here are basically professional adventurers. Why would we need to play out some fake adventure?”

     “I don’t know, I think it sounds fun,” Isca said, leaning back a little on her tail and tapping the table thoughtfully. “We can play characters who have different abilities and personalities from us, after all.”

     Hannah grinned. “Exactly! Besides, roleplaying lets you focus on the fun parts of adventuring without all the waiting around or long travel times in between. And with your real-world experience to draw from, I bet you guys’ll dominate this game!”

     Jacques frowned. “Wait, ‘you guys?’ Won’t you be playing, too?”

     Hannah made a so-so gesture. “Yes and no. I’m gonna be running this game. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure those of you who haven't played before learn the ropes.”

     At the other side of the table, Brynn looked intrigued but uncertain. “Do you really have all the materials we need to play Neoquest? Here, on the ship?”

     “Trust me, I know how to set it up for travel,” Hannah insisted. “There are character sheets for you guys, and I have one of those fancy Virtupets datapads with my notes and any information we might need to look up. I’ve even got enough dice for everyone! Now come on, everything is already set up in the guest cabin.”

     Jacques shared a glance with the others, who all nodded or murmured in agreement with the plan. Even Garin shrugged and pushed away from the map table to follow his fellow Usul’s lead.

     Once everybody had situated themselves around the table Hannah had set up, she walked them through character creation – the classes they could play, what equipment they might need, the spells available to classes that used them.

     While they were going over attribute statistics, Jacques noticed that Garin was already filling out a good chunk of his character sheet. Curious, he leaned over to take a closer look.

     After a few moments, he raised an eyebrow. “Garin… That’s literally just you. You even put your own name where your character’s name is supposed to go.”

     Garin pulled the paper closer to himself as if trying to protect it. “Uh, yeah? I’m awesome, why wouldn’t I want to play as myself?”

     Isca let out a very un-Iscalike snort. Jacques took another look at the attributes Garin had calculated for his “Usul swashbuckler.”

     “Okay, wow, do you really think your charisma is that high?”

     About half of the table was falling into poorly stifled laughter by now. Garin fluffed up indignantly. “Hey, I’m very charismatic! I lead my own pirate crew, don’t I?”

     “You know,” Hanso piped in, “charisma isn’t a bad stat for swashbucklers, mechanic-wise. But you shouldn’t make it your highest at the expense of the stuff you need for actual fighting.”

     With the kind of grin that said he was mostly doing this to show off, he turned his own character sheet around to show it to the others. “See, my guy’s charisma is supposed to be the highest ‘cause he uses it for bard spells, but I also need good dexterity in case I have to sneak around or shoot something without magic. A swashbuckler will probably want to do the opposite.”

     Brynn slammed her hands on the table, making Jacques jump a little. Her eyes were wide in horror. “Hanso, do not tell me you’re playing a bard again!” she all but pleaded.

     Hanso’s grin had turned concerningly mischievous by this point. “You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

     Garin blinked, looking between the two of them. “You guys have played this before?”

     Brynn let out a low sigh, rubbing a paw over her face. “Aethia ran a campaign a while back,” she explained. “It was a lot of fun overall, but the less said about how Hanso’s bard dealt with the Great Skeith of the Mountain, the better.”

     Hanso, Jacques noted, looked like he, in fact, wanted to say more. Isca saved everyone’s collective sanity by asking, “So, if he’s playing a bard and Garin’s a swashbuckler, what will you be?”

     Brynn frowned thoughtfully and tapped her pencil against the table. “I’m thinking wizard. I played a warrior last time because it looked easier to start with, but being able to cast spells has always sounded interesting.”

     Jacques nodded. “Makes sense. I’m leaning toward the hunter class myself. What about you, Isca?”

     Isca looked back down at her own half-scribbled sheet. “I was thinking of playing a cleric, and now that I know everyone else’s class, I’ll probably stick with it. We should have a skilled healer, right?”

     She directed the question at Hannah, who had started fishing through her pack for something. Hannah nodded in response, but then she let out a triumphant little cry and pulled a pouch that was full to bursting from the pack.

     “And now that we have a starting point, it’s time for dice!” she announced, upending the pouch over the centre of the table. Several dozen oddly-shaped dice of various colours and patterns spilt out, clattering across the table and covering half its surface in seconds.

     Hanso let out a low whistle. “You really are a dice Groblin, aren’t you?”

     Hannah shrugged. “A girl’s gotta have her hobbies. Wait, hang on, those are my lucky dice.” She reached out to pluck several shimmering, golden-hued dice from the hoard.

     Jacques took a moment to observe which dice she picked out. Once he had an idea of how a full set seemed to work, he chose a metallic-looking blue colour for himself and started gathering pieces from the pile. Most of the others followed suit.

     “Hmm…” Garin grumbled, still a little put out by the earlier ribbing as he watched his companions sort through dice. He stood up.

     “While you guys are doing that, I’m gonna check on the crew and get some grog. Jacques, you think you can grab a set for me? I don’t care too much about the colour.”

     “Sure,” Jacques replied absently, already starting to think about just how much trouble he wanted to get his hunter into.

     * * * * * * *

     Bertram the hunter, Elhani the wizard, Sylvia the cleric, Xyrin the bard, and literally just Garin (“Hey!”) picked their way cautiously through the dark cavern, weapons ready in case of ambush. The scroll they’d deciphered said they would find their answers here, but it did not elaborate on how. The strange low moans and distant howls that pervaded the Haunted Woods echoed behind them, and soon their only source of light was from Sylvia’s Light Faerie spell.

     As they delved deeper into the cave, they came across a natural alcove with a worn old chest tucked up against the wall.

     Bertram held up one slender Nimmo hand in a halting gesture as he eyed the chest. “Wait.”

     Before he could investigate, though, an unfamiliar voice filled the cavern. “It’s rude to trespass, you know.”

     A Halloween Meerca seemed to materialise from the shadows. At least, he looked Halloween – one could never be sure how real the fangs were on denizens of the Woods.

     Elhani stepped forward. “We’re sorry. We weren’t sure whether anyone lived here and there was no other way to find out,” the Shoyru said diplomatically. “We’re investigating the disappearances at the Deserted Fairground and were told to come here. Would you be willing to help us?”

     More unearthly moaning filtered in from outside. The Meerca’s lip quirked into an enigmatic little smile.

     “The Deserted Fairground, you say? How curious that a place they call ‘deserted’ would have so many people that their disappearances go noticed.”

     Xyrin pushed his way to the front of the group. “Hang on, I can smooth this all over.”

     Elhani eyed him a little suspiciously, but acquiesced with an, “Okay…”

     Xyrin came up near the edge of Sylvia’s light, cleared his throat, and swept out one Vandagyre wing. “How are you doing, my fine fellow?” he exclaimed. “Xyrin Brighttalon, entertainer extraordinaire, at your service. You may have heard of me?”

     The Meerca just raised an eyebrow.

     Xyrin went on, undaunted. “Rendered speechless by my presence, I see. Well, friend, have I got a proposal for you! We’re on a quest, you see, and we have good reason to believe you have information that can help us. So! Lend our humble adventuring party a hand, and in return, I shall autograph anything you would like. For free!”

     Elhani raised her wand. “Yeah, okay, I’m gonna cast Silence on you now.”

     Xyrin’s self-assured grin faltered, and he fell into sputtering. “Wha- bu- you can’t cast spells on your teammate! Hannah, tell her she can’t cast spells on her teammate!”

     Hanso cast a pleading gaze toward Hannah. She seemed to be thinking it over, her lucky dice glittering as she rolled them around in her paw.

     Isca raised a hand. “I would like to cast Silence if she can’t,” she offered. “My Light Faerie bonus lets me keep my basic lighting spell up while casting other spells, so visibility won’t be a problem.”

     Hanso shifted his betrayed look from Brynn to her. “Why should you get to? Your job is to heal people, not ruin their groove!”

     Isca shrugged. “Prevention is the best medicine, and you’re probably two words away from annoying a vampire into attacking us.”

     Meanwhile, Jacques was stacking his dice into a tower as he thought the situation over. “While you guys are figuring that out, I’m still interested in that chest,” he said. “Can I… I dunno, poke it with one of my arrows or something?”

     Garin leaned back in his chair with a teasing smirk. “Not every treasure chest is gonna be a Cofferling in disguise.”

     “I will never trust treasure chests again after last time.”

     Finally, Hannah said, “You know what? Since two of you want it, I’m gonna go ahead and let you Silence Xyrin. Hanso, you can still roll to resist it.”

     Hanso held his breath and rolled one of his dice. After looking at the result, he groaned and leaned back in his chair, pouting. Brynn patted his arm reassuringly, but she didn’t hold back a sigh of relief.

     Then, pointing her pencil threateningly at Jacques, she said, “Touch that chest and you’re next. We’re trying to convince this guy to help us, and stealing his stuff in front of him is the opposite of that!”

     Jacques shrugged. “We’re pirates. Comes with the territory.”

     “Garin’s the only pirate here,” Isca pointed out. “You’re Bertram, the wayward hunter who just wants to find his family.”

     Garin raised a hand. “Does that mean I can still rob the chest?”

     Just then, another strange moan sounded, this one loud and low enough that Jacques felt it vibrating through the floorboards beneath his feet. He shot upright, eyes wide and ears pricked.

     “That’s not part of the game.”

     The table fell silent. All six heroes listened intently for the sound to return, hoping to pinpoint just where on the ship – or without – it had come from.

     The door flew open, and Talak burst into the room. “Captain! There’s something out on the water, and it’s coming right for us!”

     Chairs clattered to the ground as everybody sprang into action, most of them already drawing swords or daggers. Hannah flung her dice onto the table and shouted, “We’re rolling initiative, everyone!”

     Talak blinked as Garin and Hanso darted past him to make for the main deck. “What?”

     Jacques clapped his crewmate on the shoulder and explained, “It’s a Neoquest joke. I think.” Talak just shook his head and followed the others out to the deck.

     Already, Jacques could see most of the Black Pawkeet’s crew readying their weapons and bracing themselves or else preparing the ship for combat. Brynn, Hannah, and Isca came up just behind him. The former two took positions on deck, and Isca pulled herself up onto the portside railing to get a better look at the thing causing all the alarm.

     The “thing” in question looked like a spirit of some kind. Still a ways out but closing in fast, the spirit was cloaked in a bank of unnatural mist that seemed to rise out of the sea. Tiny spectral fish, too hazy for Jacques to tell what kind they were, darted through the fog as if swimming in murky water.

     Garin joined Isca at the ship’s rail. “I don’t suppose Hanso’s amazing charisma is going to get us out of this one?” he asked half-jokingly.

     Hanso grimaced. “Even if we were still playing the game, you saw how well that went last time.”

     As the spectral mob got closer, Jacques could distinguish more of its central figure. This was the ghost of a Maraquan Acara, wearing some sort of tattered sailor’s garb. The Acara let out another otherworldly moan, but this time he could make out a single, drawn-out word through the wailing. “Miiiinnnneeee…”

     Jacques tightened his grip on his sword. They had only one thing that could draw this kind of attention. “That ghost is after the statue we found!” he called out. “I really doubt a parley will help here.”

     Brynn scowled. “If the spirits reach that statue, there’s no telling what havoc they’ll cause! Whatever else happens, we have to keep them out of the hold.”

     It was then that the first of the spectral fish reached the ship. They darted about, fading in and out of view and emitting tiny ghostly shrieks. Jacques slashed at one, scattering it into a fine mist that seemed to rejoin with the rest of the group. All around him, he could see the others on deck doing the same.

     A loud splash signified Isca throwing herself over the railing into the sea below. “I’ve learned a few spells from my sister, but they work better from the water,” she called up to the crew. “Keep the ship steady, and I can defend it from down here!”

     The fog was rolling in thick now, so Jacques couldn’t see exactly what the sea-Aisha was doing. Based on the mingled sounds of water spray and distressed fishy shrieks, though, he guessed it was working.

     Even so, the fish kept coming. They didn’t seem to be attacking the crew outright, but harried and disoriented them while the mist and the deluge of spirits made visibility harder and harder. Several were trying to pass through to the ship’s hold, and Hannah and Brynn had practically barricaded themselves against the door belowdecks to fight the tiny spirits off.

     Then the Acara reached the ship. This close, Jacques could see that she was female and dressed in the spectral remains of an archaic high-ranking sailor’s coat. Her powerful ghostly presence was quite literally larger than life, looming over twice the height of the people on deck. Her tentacled forelimbs wrapped around the ship’s rail, and she leaned in over the deck.

     “Miiiiinnne!” the Acara wailed. “You have taken what’s mine, and I want it back!”

     Garin brandished his sword and bared his teeth. “Sorry, but we’re not the types to give up evil, cursed statues to just anyone.”

     The ghostly Acara paused for a moment. Then she cocked her head. “...What statue?”

     The seafood assault paused when she did, fish slowing their frantic “swimming” or stopping altogether. Brynn took the opportunity to groan and mutter, “This is what I get for working with pirates.”

     Then, louder, she called out, “Garin, what priceless treasure did your crew recently steal?”

     Garin held his hands up, a gesture that was rendered awkward by the fact that one was still holding his sword. “Nothing! We’ve been busy dealing with that dumb statue for weeks now!”

     That, and he panicked and sold off all the loot we had recently acquired once he learned that a knight would be coming on board, Jacques thought wryly to himself.

     Meanwhile, the Acara had recovered her composure. She drew herself back up to her full height and bellowed, “Fools! You think I gathered my forces and came all this way for ordinary treasures? I seek nothing less than… The Dice of Destiny!”

     There was another, much longer pause from everyone present. One crewman called out, “Hey, isn’t that a Lost Desert game?”

     But Jacques’ thoughts went elsewhere. He could see, in his mind’s eye, the giant pile of dice that Hannah had dumped onto their game table earlier. And he remembered the dice she had chosen for herself. The glittering golden ones, that seemed to shimmer with their own light every time she rolled them across the table to determine how her monsters fared against Bertram and the other imaginary adventurers.

     Slowly, Jacques turned to look at Hannah. His fellow heroes did the same – even Isca, who had by now made her way back onto the ship’s railing to see what was going on.

     “Hannah…” Jacques said, “Where exactly did you get your lucky dice from?”

     Hannah shrank back a little from everyone’s glares. “What? They’re just dice! I mean, sure, I happened to find that particular set in some long-forgotten pirate cave. I’m a treasure hunter, what do you expect? But it’s not like they’re some all-powerful artefacts. I just think they’re neat!”

     “The Dice of Destiny have a great but subtle power,” the ghost boomed. “When I lived, the seas were vast and largely uncharted. By rolling the Dice over the indefinite spaces in my maps and deciphering their numbers, I could predict safe passages and the routes to grand treasures in the great unknown!”

     After a moment, she lowered herself a little from her imperious height and added, “Also, they were quite good for games and kept me and my crew occupied in the short breaks during our treacherous voyages.”

     From halfway across the deck, Hanso called out, “Hang on a second… So this means Hannah’s been using magic dice against us this whole time?! No wonder those Meepits gave us so much trouble!”

     “Magic navigation dice, doesn’t count!” Hannah barked back at him. Then, ears drooping a little, she turned back toward the ghostly Acara and folded her arms.

     “So, I’m guessing you won’t be persuaded to let me keep them now that you’ve passed on?”

     The Acara shook her head. “I owe much of the life I had to the Dice, and I have many fond memories with them. In the modern era, their navigational use is limited anyway. You may keep whatever else you found of my treasures, but the loss of the Dice has greatly disturbed my rest.”

     Hannah drooped further, but turned to open the door belowdecks with a grumble of, “It’s always the fun treasures.” Several fish darted inside as soon as the door cracked open, and she hurried after them to make sure they didn’t mess with anything other than their master’s beloved dice.

     Within minutes, the unnatural fog receded from the Black Pawkeet as the ghostly sailor and her minions left for their ancient cave. Sparkly golden specks glinted in the centre of the spectral mass when the sun hit just right. The unearthly moans of the procession now carried notes of a cheerful melody.

     Jacques stood at the portside railing and watched them go with Isca, Hanso, Brynn, and Hannah, while Garin checked to confirm that his ship and crew were unscathed and ready to get back underway. Jacques felt like he was speaking for everyone when he said, “Well… That just happened.”

     Hanso shrugged. “Eh. I don’t know about you guys, but this barely breaks the top ten list of weirdest things to happen to me and Brynn on a mission.”

     Isca turned to eye the others. “Suddenly, I’m glad I’m not a full-time adventurer.”

     “The good news is, everyone’s fine and the creepy, cursed statue is still safe,” Hannah said, her tone still just a bit sullen. “Bad news is, I had to give up my lucky dice.”

     Suddenly, though, she perked up. “On the other hand, that fishy ghost attack would be amazing for a Neoquest adventure on the high seas.”

     “Ohhh, no,” Garin said, joining the rest of them. “The crew’s suffered enough Neoquest-related trauma for one day.”

     Most of the travellers groaned in disappointment. Jacques frowned and pointed out, “But nobody got hurt, and the ghost only took one set of dice. The odd group dispute aside, that game has been a pretty good way to pass our downtime.”

     Garin shrugged, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I know, that’s why I only said one day. We’ve still got time before we get to the mainland. Just, no ghosts in the game after this. Please.”

     Hannah sprang back from the railing. “Great! I was just gonna make this a one-shot, but now that we’re planning for more time, I have all kinds of encounter ideas!”

     With that, she ran off and disappeared down into the ship’s quarters. Garin scratched the back of his head and muttered, “I only understood about half of what she just said, and I’m already starting to regret this.”

     Jacques shrugged. “Hey, at least the galley tables should be safe from now on.”

     The End.