An Interactive Adventure: Dungeon Master

[Dryunya]

==> A metal rectangle with faded "er ency xit" written in it.

Though I'll admit I liked the previous one.

[Guyshane]

==> A meat bicycle

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

==>Sit on the tax forms left by Gerald from Accounting

[Krika]

=> That hole in the floor. Why didn't you notice that somebody had dug a tunnel out of here?

[narrativedilettante]

Selecting...

[narrativedilettante]

1. The newly-assigned Dungeon Master, of course! Although why she was pretending to be a chair is beyond you- that's a little weird, even for her usual pranking standards.
2. A metal rectangle with faded "er ency xit" written in it.
3. A meat bicycle
4. Sit on the tax forms left by Gerald from Accounting
5. That hole in the floor. Why didn't you notice that somebody had dug a tunnel out of here?

The Random Number Generator has chosen 3. (For the 4th time in a row... :/)

Your knees give way and you collapse to the ground, but as you do so there's a squishy noise and an unpleasantly damp sensation on your posterior. That's enough to give you energy to jump to your feet, all thoughts of collapsing onto the ground forgotten.

Where you were about to land, there's a selection of raw meats arranged on the ground. They're in some disarray now that you've interacted with them, but it looks like they were, just a little while earlier, assembled in the shape of a bicycle. This can only be the work of the Dungeon Prankster, and now your clothes are covered in meat juice as well as pie.

There are rules in the Dungeon Master handbook about providing prisoners with clean clothes to wear, but you doubt the Dungeon Prankster is going to take her new role at all seriously. You'd be surprised to learn she's even read the Dungeon Master handbook.

You pick up the papers that Gerald left for you, grimacing at the splotches where meat or bits of pie splattered onto the documents. Leaving your filthy clothes in a pile on top of the former meat bicycle, you retreat to the corner of your cell again and set out to review the forms.

Oh dear. There is an irregularity here.

You owe Gerald an apology. Of course, he's gone now, and you don't particularly want to face him, even if you did have a way to get out of here or summon him back.

You decide to write a letter, to avoid the difficulty of a face-to-face conversation. (Don't worry about where to find a pen. Pens are like fruit flies; they show up all over the place no matter how you try to get rid of them.) What do you say in your letter?

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

==> You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.

[Krika]

=> You ask if he can come back so you can go over the forms together and make sure that they're done properly.

[Pixelmage]

=> Write an essay on the history of symmetry in architecture.

(Here's hoping you roll yet another 3 in a row. )

[RussetDivinity]

==> You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.

Can I resubmit this? Because I really want this one to happen.

[Dryunya]

==> Play "I spy" by mail.

(Don't worry about where to find a pen. Pens are like fruit flies; they show up all over the place no matter how you try to get rid of them.)

You know not what you've wrought.

[eli_gone_crazy]

==> You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.

Can I resubmit this? Because I really want this one to happen.

This.

[Victin]

==> Write down your last will and a few scribbles to give visual aid to the reader

[Sophira]

==> You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.

Can I resubmit this? Because I really want this one to happen.

This.

I fourth this one!

[narrativedilettante]

Selecting...

[narrativedilettante]

1. You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.
2. You ask if he can come back so you can go over the forms together and make sure that they're done properly.
3. Write an essay on the history of symmetry in architecture.
4. Play "I spy" by mail.
5. You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.
6. You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.
7. Write down your last will and a few scribbles to give visual aid to the reader
8. You forget all about the irregularity and passionately declare your love for Gerald in the letter.

The Random Number Generator has chosen 1.

When you put pen to paper, you realize that this is a unique opportunity to impress Gerald. Since he won't be physically present, you shouldn't get all flustered and embarrass yourself. Your letter must be incisive, eloquent, demonstrative of the inner beauty that Gerald has never had the opportunity to see in you.

You must guard your emotions carefully, lest they get in the way of your expression of self. This letter must be a masterpiece of wit. There's no room for foolish infatuations.

Also, you really need to get that irregularity resolved. Otherwise you may never get out of here.

Before you can get past "Dear Gerald," though, you realize that you have no means to deliver the letter. There's no mail service from the dungeon. When you were Dungeon Master you never delivered mail to prisoners or helped them to get letters out. You can't imagine that the Dungeon Prankster would agree to do such a favor for you, in any case.

So there is absolutely no hope of Gerald ever reading this.

That realization is liberating, in a way. You forget all about trying to impress him and just write out everything that comes to your mind. What hits the page is pure emotion, without a hint of wit or any guiding thought process. You compare Gerald to the sunrise, to a delicate flower, to various legendary heroes. You describe how humbled you feel in his presence. You apologize for your unconscionable behavior in the past. Once or twice you break into poetry.

The letter is a mess, a rambling declaration of passion that would make even the most romantic-minded individual cringe. Once you've got it all out of your system, you flop onto the floor and fall asleep. That much emotional honesty can take it out of a person!

When you wake up, your cell has been cleaned. The pile of meat in the vague shape of a bicycle has been removed, and there are clean clothes neatly folded on the ground next to you. It is impossible to tell whether these are your own clothes, freshly laundered, or some other completely identical clothes. You get dressed, wishing you could wash your own face and hands so they'd be as clean as your clothes, but you'll take what you can get.

Then you notice. The letter you wrote. It's gone.

You search frantically through your cell, though there's not much in there so it's a pretty quick search. The documents Gerald left for you are still there, and you go through every sheet of paper. Your letter is not among them. It's not in any of your pockets, and it's not on the ground where you left it. It has not been pasted to the walls or ceiling.

The letter should be right under your feet where you're standing, but there's nothing. Just the stone floor.

Oh wait.

When you take a step, you see something right under your foot. It's a painting.

A painting of a heart.

The Dungeon Prankster.

It's embarrassing enough that she read the letter. Not only did she read it, she is mocking you regarding its contents. AND, it seems, she has likely delivered it.

Gerald must never read that letter. You can't bear the thought of him laughing at you, rejecting you, thinking you're some kind of pathetic lovestruck fool. Gerald avoiding your gaze when you meet, or worse, looking at you with pity in those beautiful drooping eyes of his.

You've got to get out of here and stop that letter from reaching its destination.

But before you can start planning your daring escape, you hear a regal sort of throat-clearing. You look at the door, and see the King staring through the screen at you.

"You had better have a damn good explanation for your behavior," he says.

Maybe if you're contrite enough, he'll let you out. What do you say?

[eli_gone_crazy]

"I've got your nose!"

[Krika]

=> Explain that you can explain this all, later, but right now it's of vital importance that you prevent a letter from reaching it's destination.

[JackAlsworth]

==> "It was the cake. The cake got to me."

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

Offer him the painting of the heart and say, "I love you!" He'll be too flattered to be angry.

[Dryunya]

==> Recite a mind-controlling spell and get the King to free you.

[Victin]

==> Blame your rap-loving neighbor. Here, he did more damage to you than he'd ever had done at home.

[Guyshane]

==> "Well you better have an even better explanation for how I ended up here."

[narrativedilettante]

Selecting...

[narrativedilettante]

1. "I've got your nose!"
2. Explain that you can explain this all, later, but right now it's of vital importance that you prevent a letter from reaching it's destination.
3. "It was the cake. The cake got to me."
4. Offer him the painting of the heart and say, "I love you!" He'll be too flattered to be angry.
5. Recite a mind-controlling spell and get the King to free you.
6. Blame your rap-loving neighbor. Here, he did more damage to you than he'd ever had done at home.
7. "Well you better have an even better explanation for how I ended up here."

The Random Number Generator has chosen 6.

You spin a tale of earnest effort and sincerity thwarted at every turn by the cacophonous debauchery of one incorrigible individual. The King hears of the days, the years, during which you did your job perfectly despite the systematic dissolution of your sanity. Even as a prisoner, confined to a cell and lacking in any accoutrements, he managed to get under your skin, planting suggestions that burned away at you until there was nothing left to rein in your most terrible impulses. Because, of course, like most people, your most terrible impulses involve rolling around in pie.

It's all lies, of course, but the King listens and seems convinced. "As long as that man remains in my homeland, I will never live up to my full potential," you conclude. If you get your way, then that obnoxious prisoner will be exiled, you'll be released, and not only will you never have to listen to annoying requests for boom-boxes in cells again, you should also have plenty of time to track down the letter before Gerald gets his hands on it.

"Very well," says the King. "You shall be released, pending investigation into your mental health and well-being." Your cell door swings open. Was it unlocked already? Did the Dungeon Prankster unlock it just now? You see the key ring on the Dungeon Master's desk near the stairs. "You may resume your duties immediately, and I shall have the executioner come for our troublemaker."

The executioner? You didn't want to get the guy killed! You just wanted him out of your hair.

"Wait!" You call out as the King ascends the stairs.

"The King waits for no one!" He cries back to you, and then lets himself out of the dungeon. Apparently the Dungeon Prankster had not locked the entrance. She really did make a poor Dungeon Master.

But nevermind that. You've got bigger problems than the Dungeon Prankster just now. Gerald is closer to reading your ill-thought-out love letter every second, and an innocent* man is about to be executed! You may not be the most moral person around, but you do hold to certain ethical codes, and they include not killing people just for their choice in music, no matter how abhorrent. But if you take time to forestall the execution, you may not have time to reach the letter before Gerald does.

*For certain values of "innocent."

What do you do?