Guardians of Lakeview

Chapter 2

“You melted it? No way!”

All of the Guardians of Lakeview were shocked at Arnel’s retelling of his fight with the frost giant, but Floyd had a way of taking things to the next level of excitement.

“That’s amazing, Arnel,” Floyd continued. “Did you put the Caution, Wet Floor sign by the puddle?” He was now laughing too hard at his own joke—leaving little room for Arnel to respond.

Arnel humored him, though, and playfully slapped him on the back and laughed. Lizzie shook her head. Nate, like usual, found himself in a foreign land in his mind. He replayed old campaigns; he dreamed up new worlds.

“Let’s get to it guys,” Lizzie said, “we’ve got a lot to figure out here. They way I see it, we’ve got two options. Should we start by revisiting the events of yesterday’s lockdown and Arnel’s fight, or should we go to Marucs’s and see if he knows what’s going on?”

“What would he know?” Floyd said.

“For one, he knows every role-playing game known to man, and two, he owns the only store in Clayton county that holds anything worth having when it comes to role-playing games.”

Lizzie and Floyd couldn’t have been more opposite. The way their minds worked it was a wonder they were even friends. Though they always seemed to butt heads, Arnel knew both of them would do anything for the other. He knew how to handle them when their debates started to steam.

Roll One: Prediction: How do you think Arnel will have Lizzie and Floyd settle their disagreement? Remember, they do play role-playing games.

“Let’s roll on it,” Arnel said, “Zero to ten we talk about what went down, 11 to 20 we head to Marcus’s.”

The group nodded. If Nate had tuned back in.

Arnel thought about reaching for the dice in his pocket, and then hesitated. They weren’t really his, and something about them was different. He didn’t want everyone asking about his new dice, so he grabbed one of the many bags sitting on his desk and pulled out a d20.

He let the die fall easily—no shaking. It bounced off the desk and onto the floor. When it finally stopped its commotion, it landed near Nate’s feet.

“17,” he said.

“Well, that’s that.” Lizzie said. “Make sure to grab your coats. It’s cold outside.”

“Thanks mom,” Floyd said. The glare Lizzie sent his way hit as hard as any shoulder punch she could muster.

When they walked outside, it was the first time two of them had ever seen snow. Nate and Lizzie had never left Texas in their 12 years of life. Lizzie was trying to play it off as Nate stared starry-eyed into the sky. It wasn’t wisps of snow either, but falling heavily and sticking to the ground. Snow never fell in Lakefront, Texas. It was December, but that didn’t mean anything here. The weatherman had called for 80-degree temperatures and clear skies.

Roll Two: Inferencing: Why would it be snowing in Lakefront if it had never snowed before?

They were still able to ride their bikes on the road; Arnel was worried they may have to walk back, though, if the snow got too thick. None of them talked as they struggled to pedal. When they arrived at Marcus’s, the lot was empty, the sign said closed, and the four of them did what they always do and walked in anyway.

Marcus was standing behind the counter with his nose in a comic book.

“Guardians! What’s going on?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes.

“We’re trying to figure out what’s going on with this snow and these Vikings,” Arnel said, stepping forward to the counter.

He looked past Marcus and noticed hundreds—maybe thousands—of comic books sprawled across the floor.

“Yeah, I heard about the lockdown. Don’t mind the mess. I figured now was as good a time as ever to reorganize my comics. It’s been five years. I’ve been reading them more than anything else, though.”

Face up on the counter was book one of a 1987 comic called Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters by Mike Grell.

“I haven’t read some of these in years. These comics always remind me of how old I am—which none of you better ask by the way. I’m forever stuck at 32, and I’m sticking to that. As a time-traveler, I have a way of avoiding age you know.”

Nate chuckled.

“I heard that,” Marcus said, then released his goofy laugh. It ebbed and flowed and squeaked. It was the supremely awkward but no one could hear it and not be in a better mood because of it.

“So, these Vikings,” Marcus started after he managed to recapture his laugh.

“There was a frost giant chasing me through the school,” Arnel said.

Marcus’s eyes bulged.

“Really! How big was it?”

Arnel couldn’t help but get sucked in by Marcus’s enthusiasm.

“All of eight feet, and dumb as a rock,” Arnel said.

“Wow! I can’t believe you saw one in real life and lived to tell the tale.”

It was Nate’s turn to get involved.

“That’s what I was thinking. In our Air of Hela campaign, one nearly ended my ranger. They only lack intelligence. Get cornered and you’re done for.”

“So, y’all think somehow the Air of Hela has come to life in Lakefront?”

“It’s seems like it,” Floyd said.

“And do you know why that would happen?” Lizzie asked. “I mean, has anything like this happened before?”

The conversation paused. It was a clear signal that Marcus knew something. Unfortunately for him, the man was easy to decipher.

“Please, Marcus, tell us what you know. We want to help end this thing.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. You guys are just kids. I don’t want you going around playing hero and get hurt.”

“We won’t play hero; we’ll play together. I can promise you that,” Arnel said. “Besides what other groups are there? As far as I know we’re the only players in town who are committed to seeing campaigns through. Everybody else does it for the novelty.”

“This campaign won’t be novel.”

When Marcus said something like that it was because he’d read the documentation. The Air of Hela wasn’t a mainstream version of Dungeons and Dragons.

Opinion: Turn and talk: Why do you think role-playing games like Dungeons and Dragons are popular. What even is a role-playing game?

It was a campaign released by a small company. Arnel bought it online, though, because he had always wanted the Guardians to be able to play a game that centered around Norse Mythology.

It had started with small but strange events. Arnel noticed a guy with an epic beard that looked like a Viking cosplayer in the park. The man had a sword and shield to match. There were others. They popped up around town randomly. When he and his dad went down to the docks to fish, they saw a longship, the Viking’s vessel of choice.

“Wow, there must be some Norse convention or something,” his dad had said.

The weather events were strange as well, but not unheard of since it was an El Nino year. It wasn’t until the Frost Giant chased him around the school that Arnel knew for sure the Air of Hela was playing out in Lakeview. He read must of the campaign book, and he assumed Marcus knew it by memory.

He looked back at the storeowner to confirm his suspicion.

“Marcus, you know how the game plays out don’t you?”

Marcus nodded, then spoke. “It’s a cool campaign if it is just a game. But I read a blog from the creators about some possible ways it could end.”

The group waited for Marcus to say, but he wouldn’t.

He told them he shouldn’t have said that, it reminded Arnel of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets when Haggard kept spilling information he shouldn’t be sharing.

Marcus went to organizing comics. He tried to dodge Lizzie and Floyd’s questions by pretending to be busy. At one point, he even went in his office and closed the door. He threatened to call their parents or notify the school. In the end, he let them know. He said they’d just read the blog anyway and that their parents and the school would probably laugh him off any way.

When the topic changed to how this all got started, it was again clear that Marcus knew something.

“Don’t waste any more time, please, Marcus,” Lizzie said. “We’ve got to stop this game.”

He knew she was right.

“Okay, okay. I was at this conference in Dallas last month. There are all these vendors selling all courts of awesome stuff, but one in particular caught my eye—a custom dice seller with a simple business name—Texas Custom Dice. He had a sign that read ‘Dice so good they’ll bring the game to life.’

“I had no idea that it was literal. I mean, who would? It’s crazy. He told me he made the dice on site. I told him I wanted some wooden dice with a gold-colored numbering. He went outside—I guess to his car to make them—and came back in with the dice. There was something different about the dice. From the moment I touched them I felt …”

“Powerful,” Arnel said.

“Ye— wait, how’d you know that?”

“Its strange, but two weeks ago I was kayaking. A noticed a small item fly off the edge of a cliff, beelining toward my kayak. I turned. The thing hit the water hard. When I paddled over, I noticed them: a set of beatiful, wooden dice with gold numbering. I’ve had them ever since.”

“Do you have them now?” Marcus said.

Arnel scooped them out of his pocket and set them on the counter.

Marcus continued his story.

“I’d hoped to never see these things again. The feeling they gave me freaked me out. Dice are supposed to make you feel joy, not power. I went and looked at the vendor list, but there was no Texas Custom Dice. It freaked me out. I thought I’d just get rid of the things. I was out hiking and dropped the set down a drain—apparently right where you were kayaking.”

The group stared at the set. It was obvious they had to finish the campaign. The adventures had started and the dice weren’t going away. It was time to play.