By William Madden
What are you looking at? See something you like? Do you know who I am? I am the one who knows. I see everything. I even see you seeing me… See how you see me as nothing more than a game piece on some fantasy chess board. I see…
My name is Moriarty and I am the Dragon, king of the dragonborn and ruler of all the lands. Or at least I was until that slut-whore of a sister of mine cast a spell on me making me confused about all manner of things, and also aware of you.
The dragon laughed out loud. The bartender looked at him a bit startled and confused. The dragon didn’t seem to be talking to the bartender, but there was no one else at the bar.
But you know this. You know what transpired. You know how they took everything from me; how that dumb bitch is sitting on my throne rubbing her twat for hours at a time because no one will go near that filthy thing. You know, and you let it happen. The bitch rolled a 20 and I rolled a 1. How does that fuckin’ happen? You rigged the game!
“Sir, are you alright,” asked the bartender?
And what am I doing now!? Sitting here drinking, stuck neck deep in this shit life of mine, forced to go on quest after quest for no apparent fuckin’ reason other than they need a dragonborn (Whoever “they” are), just to start a quest, get about two days into said quest, and have the whole world reset its-fucking-self! I say not this time! This time I’m coming for you, Dungeon Master! This time I control the dice! This time I win!
On this day I quest for the ultimate power to defeat you once and for all. Maybe you have heard of it. It has many names. Some call it a hack, others a cheat. I have even heard it called easy mode. But maybe you know it as the ancients called it: GOD MODE!
Yes! I will find this GOD MODE and I will destroy you. And I will have my freedom from your twisted fate, and have back my kingdom!
“Pardon me, but who are you talking to,” asked the bartender.
“Roll to see if I answer,” responded the dragon with a smirk.
“I don’t catch your meaning,” said the bartender.
“Of course you don’t,” said the dragon. “How could you? You’re nothing but an NPC!”
“I’m not certain what an NPC is, but it doesn’t sound pleasant so I would ask you not call me it again, sir.”
“Pleasant,” responded the dragon? “Pleasant? Maybe it is pleasant. They say ignorance is bliss, so you must be in heaven you fucking splooge!”
A face of annoyance replaced the bartenders confused stare, “Sir, if you are done drinking I would ask that you please be on your way.”
The dragon looked at the bartender for a moment with a face of drunken contempt. The bartender’s eyes followed the dragon’s unsteady hands into his pouch. He pulled out one, twenty sided die and held it in his fingers for the bartender to see.
“Let’s see if I leave quietly,” said the dragon and he threw the die on the bartop. It rolled for a short moment before falling onto the floor where it landed on the number 1. “Figures,” said the dragon, and he got up to leave, picking up his die off the floor. “You know anyone looking to add a new player to their questing party?”
The bartender at first seemed confused by the question but then responded, “Not a drunk like you. What could you possibly offer a group of adventurers?”
“I don’t know. But people always need a dragonborn, whoever they are.” And with that, the dragonborn left the bar. And I didn’t fuckin’ pay either. Fuck that guy. He was an asshole. He is so fucking lucky I only rolled a 1. So fuckin lucky.