The Last Role of the Dice: A Fable Adventure – Part 4

A tale where YOU choose what happens next! Or at least vote for it. Read Part 3 here

After escaping a sticky situation, you need to find a quiet place to roll your dice.

4

After weighing up your options, you decide to follow the three monks, sure that they’ll lead you to a place of quiet contemplation. They weave their way through the crowd with unnerving ease and, despite their conspicuous clothing, you have a hard time keeping track of them. You even get the feeling that they know they’re being followed as they take a labyrinthine route through Bowerstone Market, doubling-back on themselves repeatedly until you arrive at an alley in the Industrial district.

The house they disappear into is far too unassuming to be a church, but perhaps, you reason, they belong to an order that has taken a vow of poverty. You open the door to find a typical run-down Bowerstone home and the monks nowhere in sight. There is a large empty table that seems to have been designed for rolling dice, and you’re about to put it to just such a use when voices stop your hand.

‘I don’t care what their excuse is. They ran out first which means they forfeit the game and we win,’ says one of the monks, coming down the stairs.

‘Yeah, and we’re getting half the money for the rent too,’ says another. ‘Let’s not—hey, who’s that?’

The three monks stop and stare at you. They seem rather young, and not that pious. One of them is drinking a large milkshake.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. ‘I thought this was a monastery. Somewhere I could take shelter. You know, because of your robes.’

‘Oh, these? It’s just our team’s uniform.’

‘We just got back from a table-top tournament which ended prematurely.’

‘And which we totally should have won. They ran out first, and the rules clearly state—’

‘Oh, shut up, Jim. My name is Mark. And this is Jim and Ben.’

‘That’s a coincidence,’ you say as they hold up their hands in greeting. ‘My name is Ben too. Ben F—‘

‘Hey! What’s that in your hand? Look!’ All three of them hurry over to the table, where your hand is still poised to throw the dice.

‘Could they be?’ asks Ben, eyes open wide.

‘They’ve got to be. They look just like the ancient drawings. They’re the Dice of Loquacious Destiny!’

‘The what?’ you ask.

‘Roll them! Roll them!’

Since that was your plan all along, you roll the dice on the table, where they twirl, spin and dance with pleasing clacking sounds before stopping at the number 2 and the number 5. For a few seconds, nothing happens. Then, dice number 2 speaks:

‘Oh, bleeding heck, not a table-top gamers’ house. They’ll roll us till we’re sick to the stomach.’

The three non-monks yelp with excitement.

‘Wait,’ says number 5. ‘This one doesn’t look like a gamer. He must be the one.’

The dice with the number 2 looks at you. ‘Well, are you?’

‘I think so,’ you reply. ‘I’m on a quest and you’re supposed to tell me what do.’

‘Common misconception,’ says 2. ‘We don’t tell people what to do. We’re more like facilitators really.’

‘We just led you here. You should ask them what to do next,’ adds 5, nodding at Mark, Jim and Ben.

‘But we don’t know anything.’

‘Oh, for goodness sake’s, just tell him where you’ve been and what happened.’

‘Well, like we said, we were in a tournament in Brightwood,’ say Mark, who seems the least flustered by the talking dice.

‘Wait, Brightwood?’ you ask. ‘The woman said that’s where I had to go. But whereabouts? To do what?’

‘We’d rented out Brightwood Tower for the weekend…’

‘Well, us and that Oakfield clan,’ interrupts Ben. ‘They paid half.’

‘No, they SAID they’d pay half,’ adds Jim. ‘But they ran away first, which is why—’

‘Just tell me what happened!’

They explain that a dark, demonic presence had invaded the tower and threatened to kill them all, ruining the tournament and driving them out. It seems clear that this must be the danger Theresa sent you to deal with. You ask the dice if this is the case, but they are now silent and inert. The question now is how you will get to Brightwood.

 Loading ...