Chapter 13

Brown Paper Bag of Purchased Items

We were so close to the surface that the earth thrummed from foot traffic. Human voices were muffled. There was a constant stream of water. My ears lay flat. Ella didn’t seem the least bit nervous. She plopped her sack down and rummaged through its contents. Her tail swished this way and that way.

“Let’s get you people-ready,” she said.

“We’re going out there again?”

“I want you to meet someone. Put these on.”

She passed me a tunic, a hat, and a cloak. She dressed in the same articles and slipped into a pair of booties.

“I have promotional boots,” I said and slipped those on.

“Oh Boggo, they’re lovely! You look like quite the pirate.”

“What’s all this for?”

“You and I know that we’re not rats. But they don’t.”

They—the humans. Ella dug out a wall of dirt and revealed a stone wall. She pushed it open and exited. It took me a few moments to complete my first step into broad daylight.

We emerged from the stone wall of a garden. A fountain, as big as Thrush’s smoker, stood in the middle of the garden. 6 different streams of water came down from stone birds at the top. The garden smelled like fresh mulch. So much mulch that I could taste it like a spice. Tulips were in full bloom. The sun shone through the petals and made them seem like stained glass. Ella stalked through the tulips. When she passed beneath the flowerheads of blue tulips, she turned green for a moment. Her cloak whipped and flapped as she went on.

We came to the end of the tulips at the edge of the garden. Ella stepped down from the raised earth and into the throng of people. Stood on two legs and grinned up at me. Humans made cooing noises as they gave her room.

“Trust me,” she said.

Trembling, I plopped down and wrung my hands. But her hand was suddenly there. She took a tight hold of my hand and pulled me through the throng of people. With expert feats of dexterity, Ella navigated around billowing dresses, stomping boots, piercing canes, baskets that swung low like pendulums, and curious dogs with whipping tails. I was most impressed when she squeezed through a chaos of children without the slightest hesitation. She danced like she was an artist on ice, leapt like the wind could carry her, slid like a spill of water, and sidestepped like an expert thief. I stumbled along until we arrived at a giant door. Ella moved it with her back. We entered.

A man rounded the corner of a table. “Ella!” he said. “And you must be Boggo. Welcome in. Happy with the marbles?”

“Have you got anymore?” Ella said.

“Bottom shelf.”

Near the floor on the right hand wall were baskets filled with marbles. A tag on each basket showed a variety of prices. The cheapest marbles were clear. Others had swirls. The most expensive had whole worlds of colors inside. Ella pulled me over to the most expensive basket. She showed me marble after marble and asked if I like them or not. Some I did and some I thought were amazing. Once she had enough of an armful, she bolted to the counter to make a purchase.

Just as I was about to follow her, I spotted a figurine on the next shelf up. I stepped back for a better view. Dozens of figurines came into view. They were as big as the ones that I carved. Each one was masterfully painted. There were creatures unfamiliar to me. A ton of humans. Lots of goblins. Skeletons too.

My jaw dropped.

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“Would you like to pick one out to play with?” the man said.

I couldn’t process anything.

“Boggo?” Ella said.

She came over to me. I whispered, “what is he asking me to do?”

“Boggo would like to know why you want him to pick one out,” she told the man.

“I’ve prepared a game for us to play,” he said. “It’s been gathering dust. Hop up on up.”

“Come on Boggo,” Ella said and gently tugged my fur.

But the man was close enough. His boots looked thick and mean, like they could kick hard.

“My name is Bailey,” the man said. “I’m a game master—have been for many years. I promise I don’t bite.”

“It’s safe, Boggo,” Ella said.

Ella was right beside him, holding her brown paper bag of purchased items. This wasn’t the first time they’d met. So if Ella said it was safe—I trusted her. I tucked my tail and forced my way over. I climbed up on the table.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bailey,” I said.

“See?” Ella said. “It’s not so bad is it? Look.”

I lifted a foot to see what I was standing on. “Is this a board game? What a beautiful map.”

“What we are about to play is not a board game. It is a role playing game. That’s why I asked you to pick a figurine. Let's pick out a couple of elves for you two.”

“Elves?” I said. “Are there any besties?”

“I’m sorry, there’s no besties in the rule book,” Bailey said.

“That’s ok. Where is the starting point?”

“I hope you have fun!” Ella said.

Bailey cleared his throat and set our pieces just inside the tavern on the map. “The tavern was dingy,” he began. “The bartender is slumped over the bar, steadily snoring. A cloaked adventurer has gone behind the bar. He pours himself an ale. He staggers but quick footwork keeps him upright. He finishes pouring his ale and turns to you. ‘Bout time you two got here,’ he says.”

“I give him the skeleton rune,” Ella said.

“What’s that?” I whispered.

“It’s from a quest I finished in my first game.”

“How do you know what to do with it?”

“That’s Gelbertaffid. He’s an exiled prince and I’m helping him reclaim the territory he lost to the skeleton horde.”

“Is this part of the rules?”

“This is part of the story.” Ella said.

“Well where’s the skeleton rune?”

“You have to use your imagination.”

Speaking for Gelberaffid, Bailey said, “I thank you greatly Ella, princess warrior.”

“I’m a princess warrior,” Ella told me.

“Can I be a warrior too?” I said.

“Choose a name, young Boggo,” Bailey said.

“I’m a few hundred years older than you.”

“A few hundred? I see. Well choose a name, old Boggo.”

“Thrush,” I said.

“Here is your character sheet.”

“What’s all this? What are these numbers for?”

“I’ll explain as we go,” Ella said.

Bailey cleared his throat. “The tavern door suddenly explodes.” Bailey’s elbow danced. A die clattered on the table behind a barricade of paper. “Oof,” he continued. “What’s your armor class?”

“What’s going on?” I said. I felt my ears perk.

“Mine is ten,” Ella said.

“What’s going on?”

Ella put a finger at the top of a column of numbers on my character sheet. “These are your stats.” She slid her finger over. “This is your armor class.”

“Nine,” I read.

“Both of you are thrown across the tavern from the explosion,” Bailey said. “You each take one point of damage. When you get to your feet you see a skeleton at the threshold. He’s laughing and his bones are on fire. What do you do?”

“I hide!” I said.

“We fight,” Ella said and slammed her fist on the table.

I balked. “We fight?”

“We fight,” she said. She took my hand.

“Ok we fight,” I said.

“All right, Boggo,” Bailey said. “I’m going to need you to roll this die.”

He handed me a die with many sides. It was light and made of red amber. Insects were trapped in the amber. There was a mosquito on one side, two mosquitos on another, twelve mosquitos on another…

A twelve sided die! My jaw dropped again.

“Boggo,” Ella said.

She pointed at a basket on the shelf of the left hand wall. I stood to peer over the rim. It was packed with dice. There were baskets whose tags read either d4, d6, d8, d10, or d12.

Ella’s finger moved to point at the shelf above. The tags on those baskets read d20.

My tail puffed up. My ears stretched high. My eyes went wide. My gaze zoomed to the d20 in tunnel vision.