The Code is Mightier than the Sword

Chapter 2b: The Offer

“The holy smite spell did . . .” Conor, the DM, paused as Jason rolled his dice, “46 points of damage. Ferrisbane rears up one final time, looking at you with hatred in her eyes, and falls to the ground dead.”

Kirk and Alexandra hugged each other in celebration before Alexandra realized she was supposed to be mad at her boyfriend. Preston did a fist pump with a subdued “Hell, yea.” While Jason only nodded his head. He had been hoping for a worse roll from a 10d6 attack so he could finish the dragon with his flaming sword, but killing the evil creature with his paladin ability was just as poetic.

“Did the dragon drop anything?” Kirk asked.

The other players rolled their eyes at the greedy thief.

“His body,” the DM replied.

“What,” Alex asked, “do you think she’s carrying around an armory of weapons she can’t use?”

Kirk just shrugged his shoulders.

“You can pry off a few scales,” Conor replied, “but since you sucked all the magic out of her before she died, they won’t be worth much.”

“Counterfeit dragon scales,” Kirk grinned. “I can work with that.”

“Is there anything else we need to worry about in the cavern?” Jason asked.

“Nothing of value,” Conor said. “I won’t make you walk back through the tunnels. They are empty of enemies. You can return to the village outside the mine if you want. In fact, I think this would be a good place to stop. You all earned enough experience points to level up. So you can spend some time before the next session to work on what abilities you want to improve and what spells to pick.”

Preston pushed back from the table, stretching his long legs and letting out a satisfied sigh. “Thank you very much, sir,” he said. “That was an amazing session. Your level of detail made me feel like we were actually there. The realism in your descriptions was first rate.”

“Agreed,” Alex echoed. “I could almost see the looks on the faces of those goblins when we jumped them inside the mine before we made it to the caverns.”

Everyone else echoed similar praise sentiments and spent a few minutes reliving their favorite parts before collecting their dice, pencils, and paper. They were meeting in a diner that only served breakfast and lunch, and it was 11 pm on a Friday, so they had the place to themselves. Conor was friends with the owner, and they could have all the soda and water they could drink, and he often left out some lunch leftovers like deli sandwiches or hot dogs and hamburgers that could be reheated.

Conor took longer than the others to get all his stuff together, and when the players rose to leave, the dungeon master grabbed Jason’s arm. “Jason, do you need to run off?”

The man shook his head.

“Good; if you could hang around, I’d like to talk about something.”

“Ohhh, Jason has to stay after class,” Kirk laughed. He was half Jason’s age and just out of school himself. Alex punched him in the arm and ushered him out of the restaurant. As Preston was leaving, Conor disappeared into the kitchen and returned after hearing the door chime, letting him know it was just the two of them. He was holding beers.

“I thought those were off limits,” Jason said but didn’t argue further as he took the ice-cold drink and drained a third of it in one swig.

“I’ll pay him back,” Conor remarked as he took a seat. He stared at Jason for a while without speaking.

Jason Hawthorne was a 45-year-old accountant. He made good money and was currently living alone. He wasn’t divorced, but from what Conor could tell, he hadn’t seen his wife and kids in years. He kept himself in shape after a lifetime of sports that had ended when he hurt his knee in a rugby match five years ago. He still played golf and shot hoops every chance he got. He was a deacon at his church, volunteered at a local soup kitchen, and taught advanced math and science classes at a nearby inner-city school. At six-foot-two, 210 pounds, with constant stubble that was more white than black, he looked and lived like the classic image of a paladin, the only RPG class Jason had ever played. He was also the best and most innovative player Conor had ever seen, and he had seen a lot. Conor felt terrible about what he was about to do to the man.

“What’s this about?” Jason finally asked, the silence between them growing uncomfortable.

“Jason,” Conor started, taking a long drink from his beer before continuing. “I need your help. Um . . . we need your help.”

“Who’s we?”

Conor had no convenient segue, so he just said it. “A special division of the CIA. It’s an issue of international importance.”

Jason wasn’t expecting that and took a moment to finish his beer before setting it down gently on the table. “The US government needs an accountant?”

“No. They need a gamer.” Conor glanced at his watch and then his phone. “Actually, I think it would be best if I explained on the way.”

“On the way to what?”

Conor rose from his seat, picking up the large bin that held all his gaming material. Jason didn’t move, forcing the GM to pause. “Jason, you are the best RPG player I have ever seen. Your ability to solve puzzles strategically and logically is a unique skill. You can ‘Do the Math’ in any situation and instantly know the best course of action. You keep me on my toes, and your ability to lead your other players is unrivaled. Right now, my organization has half a dozen other GMs running games in five other cities around the country. They’ve tried to pull together the best players they can find, and they are all running this same scenario,” he hefted his bin, “and no other group has even made it to the palace yet.”

Jason nodded his head, understanding the significance of that. Their quest had led them to a palace where a king had told them of his underperforming villages in the area. A farming community, a quarry, a mine, and a lumber mill had suddenly stopped producing goods. They had all been immensely profitable before. Jace and his friends had already solved the problem of the farms and quarry and had just now cleared out the minions beneath the mine. That meant these other gaming groups were weeks behind them.

“You recruited the best players in the area?” Jason asked. They were in a western suburb of Chicago right now. “Even Kirk?”

Conor laughed at the accurate assessment of the weakest player in their group. “I was after Alexandra. Kirk was a package deal. But he isn’t too bad.” Conor said. “Either way, you are the best, and I need you.”

“The CIA needs me,” Jason clarified.

“A special division of the CIA,” Conor said.

“They need me to play a game. Is there a code they can’t c***k? Are the terrorists hiding their communications within sudokus now?”

“Something like that,” Conor replied cryptically. He shifted the heavy bin in his arms again. “Look, I am authorized to offer you $100k if you come with me and try to solve our problem. Are you interested?”

Jason had his papers in his backpack and stood quickly to relieve the out-of-shape man of his heavy burden. “Next time, lead with that. Where’s your car?”

Conor chuckled. “This way.”