1

From what I understand, there are six levels of fatness: "Big," "Healthy," "Husky," "Fluffy", "Damn!," and "Uh-uh!" The difference between "Damn!" and "Uh-uh!" is you are still willing to work with "Damn!" If a "Damn!" approaches you on a crowded elevator, you will look around, and let him on. On the other hand, if an "Uh-uh!" approaches you on a crowded elevator, you hold up your hand, while pushing the close door button fast, and say, "Uh-uh!" I got this from Gabriel Iglesias on Comedy Central. The routine popped into my head when I caught sight of Lucas Rumpff, and I laughed out loud. He glanced over at me, shook his head, readjusted his glasses and started into the library. Dressed in blue jeans and a green and black Hawaiian shirt, Lucas was around my height and maybe three times my girth. He had long, thick brown hair which flowed down to his shoulders. A beat up red laptop bag hung over his right shoulder. He's in a few of my classes, but I never spoke to him before. As far as I knew, he was a loner. I wondered if he preferred to be alone, or was lonely. I soon would find out, because Anderson, the Game Creator of my weekend BattleHammer game said we needed another player to "enliven it."

I opened the large wooden door of the library and walked in. It was like going back in time. Actual chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. The blonde librarian had an antique Remington typewriter and dressed like a bobbysoxer. Arc sodium wall lamps cast a warm orange glow, stuffed leather armchairs welcomed patrons into the reading room, and ashtrays were scattered here and there, resting next to, and on, the furniture like somnolent cats. I have no idea how the place got away with smoking paraphernalia after the way the media and government demonized tobacco.

I walked amongst the towering bookshelves, their aisles shadowed and sinister. I found Lucas debating between A Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein and Cobra by Timothy Zahn. His laptop bag sat on the floor at his feet like an obedient dog.

He glanced over at me. "Are you stalking me?"

I laughed. "No way, man. My name is Carter Blake. I'm in Professor Rosenthal's Renormalization class with you."

His brow wrinkled, as if he was trying to place me. "Carter Blake? Oh, yeah. The boy genius. Didn't you manage to build a working cold fission prototype?"

"Something like that."

"Interesting." His tone said otherwise. "What do you want?"

"Do you play BattleHammer?"

"Not really. Why?"

"My Game Creator says to get some more people. I thought of you because you're always reading sci-fi and fantasy books."

"Sounds fun, but I know next to nothing about it."

"I can teach you how to play on the way over to the game. We have an all weekend thing scheduled. I'm sure you'll love it."

He looked back down at the books.

"I'd go for the Zahn book; I didn't enjoy the Heinlein one. My advice: get both of them and then choose."

"With my schedule, I will only have time for one. By the way, my name is Lucas Rumpff."

We shook hands, and he returned Stranger. I walked with him over to the librarian's desk and waited while she stamped the card with the due date, wrote out his card number, and the title of the book in a thick leather ledger. We walked out into the spring sunshine together to North Wolf Street. A crowd of lacrosse players swaggered by. The captain of the team, who I tutored in chemistry on Tuesday evenings, shouted over at us.

"Hey, Blake! Who's your new girlfriend?"

"Aw, don't be jealous, Stevenson!" I yelled back. "I'll still let you fellate me!"

The jocks stopped.

"What the fuck did you say, Blake?" Stevenson said.

"Settle down," I commanded. "Tuesday evening, seven pm, Chem 101. Don't forget."

The reminder deflated his anger, and he waved for his teammates to follow him. Lucas and I trotted down the library steps and walked down the sidewalk.

"You shouldn't taunt Stevenson like that, Carter. He'll mess you up."

"He doesn't dare," I said, feigning a confidence I didn't really feel. I didn't understand why I said that. Broderick Stevenson could kill me. "He recognizes I'll make sure he fails Chemistry if he does anything stupid. A grade flop and he's off the team. Bye-bye scholarship."

"How?"

"He trusts me to teach him the subject."

"Oh."

We walked down Wolf Street in silence for a block, and then I remembered I had promised to teach Lucas about the game. "So, about the game of BattleHammer; like Dungeons and Dragons, it uses a D20 system. Have you heard of the structure?"

"Yes."

"Right. So, to do anything that requires effort in world, you roll a D20, add the relevant modifiers and compare that to a Difficulty Class. Beating the DC means you succeed; missing it means failure. Understand?"

"Yep. I'm with you, Carter."

"Alright, for playing, that's about all you need to know upfront. If anything else comes up, we'll fill you in as needed."

"Okay."

We paused to wait for the signal at North Avenue, and then crossed. We had to hurry a bit because the warning light began to flash when we were about halfway across the busy street.

"The next step is to fill you in on the world and major characters, and then I'll tell you about your character's future teammates. We'll begin with the gods. There are a whole hell of a lot of them, so I'll tell you about those our party has had dealings with. First up is Kellün, the god of the elves and woodlands. He has many allies and enemies, but the main ones we are dealing with are Morgrid the Soul-forger and Lucien, the Demon King. Morgrid is the chief Dwarf divine being as well as being the one of the Forge. Lucien is self-explanatory. Unlike D&D, which separates fiends into two groups, BattleHammer says all pure evil beings are demons. Another deity I'm sure will pop up in the story is the father of the gods, Chokkan. Are you still with me, Lucas?"

He waited until we'd scampered across Federal Street before he answered.

"So far."

"Good." I panted. I glanced over at Lucas, who wasn't even breathing hard. I was a bit envious. "Next are the major players of our game, otherwise known as our characters and the bad guys. My character is a dwarf warrior named Drago the Clanless. His clan was wiped out by the main bad guy who I'll tell you about soon. Drago vowed revenge. His allies are as follows: Luwaxana, a female elven ranger, controlled by Mike Reynolds; Shauna the Deft, a human thief, controlled by Megan Anderson, the GC's older sister; and Ox Silverfist, a half-dragon/half-troll Warpriest of Kellün, controlled by Stacy Meers."

"Wow, a half-dragon/half-troll? That sounds like fun," Lucas said, as we crossed East Oliver. Since the street was pretty dead, we didn't bother checking for traffic.

"Does it? Just so you are aware - and I should have mentioned this before - in addition to the half-bloods, humans, dwarves and elves, you could also be a Leviathan, a Deepling, or a Gnome," I said, kicking an empty Pepsi can.

"Did you say a Ga-nome?"

"I did. In the world of BattleHammer, that is how they pronounce the name of their race."

Lucas chuckled. "What are Deeplings?"

We stopped at the corner of Biddle Street and looked for oncoming cars. The day grew dimmer as a cloud scudded past the sun. "They are a race of underground fairies, similar to leprechauns. They average about four feet tall and are between thirty and fifty pounds. Due to this stature, folks who haven't encountered them before tend to mistake them for human children. They're long-lived like elves and dwarves and reproduce about twice every seventy years. Deeplings are innate spell casters, and as such, they begin with a free level as a mage."

"Cool. What about the Gnomes?" Lucas chuckled again at the pronunciation of the name.

By this time, we were near Patterson Park in East Baltimore. We walked up a pretty steep hill. Lucas took the tor with the same ease that he'd taken our swift hike from the library. I tell you, I still have no idea how he managed to set such a rapid pace and not end up winded like me. My face was hot, skin greasy from sweat, and I panted like a dog.

"They're another race of midgets." I gasped for air at the top of the hill, and motioned for him to stop so I could catch my breath. While he waited, cool and relaxed, I leaned over with hands on knees and tried to swallow my lungs again. After about ten minutes, I resumed. "Gnomes average about three feet in height with the women being taller and stronger. The males are smarter and more agile for the most part. They are natural pickpockets and rogues in general, and they start with a free level of thief."

Twenty minutes later, we arrived in Anderson's neighborhood. It was a pretty affluent section of East Baltimore, not far from Patterson Park. His folks owned a townhouse that was about twice as big as my mom's row house. We walked up to the wide mahogany door and went in. 

2

Keith Anderson stood an inch taller than me, yet I had twenty-seven kilos on him. He had brown eyes, short, reddish-brown hair, and favored outfits of black t-shirt and jeans. The guy almost vibrated with energy and could be a lot of fun. Anderson's also a huge fan of BattleHammer and Japanese culture which was why I called him only by his last name.

He sat in his favorite place, a leather recliner near the hearth, when Lucas and I entered the white decorated living room. I once asked if he had Goth aspirations. His reply? "Nope. I'm lazy and with a closet full of dark clothes, I don't have to worry about making sure anything matches." When he didn't look up to greet us, I decided to needle him a bit.

"Hey, Mister Edward Cullen, how are you doing?"

Without looking up, he retaliated, "If you ever call me a sparkle fairy again, I'll eliminate every character you create from now 'til Judgment Day."

"By all the hells," I chuckled. "That's pretty harsh for an emo guy."

A glare directed at me. "Fuck you, Carter."

I laughed again. "This is Lucas Rumpff. Has anyone else arrived?"

Anderson held out his hand and shook Lucas'. "Nope. You two are the leading arrivals."

Just then, Megan walked into the room causing Lucas to goggle. I'd had the same reaction when I first saw her, but I had gotten used to her and was focused on the classmate I tutored. Megan was a petite, 157.48 cm. cheerleader for the Johns-Hopkins Blue Jays.

She wore her long brown hair in a braid that went over her right shoulder. Her dark chocolate eyes sparkled with delight when she spotted me. I was one of her "most favorite people," as she put it, because I always teamed up with her against her brother in water battles. She was wearing her cheer outfit: a short skirt, halter top and sneakers, all in the school colors of Columbia blue and black.

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"Hey, Carter," she chirruped in her tiny voice. "How are you?"

"I'm good. You?"

"Eager to play BattleHammer. Who's the new guy?"

"This is Lucas Rumpff. Lucas, put your eyes back in your head and greet the lady."

He swallowed hard and mumbled a greeting. Megan smiled at him and went into the dining room where we'd be playing with a swirl of skirt and a quick flash of spankers. A few minutes later, Mike and Stacy walked in holding hands. Mike Reynolds appeared to be the identical twin of actor Jensen Ackles. He had the same brown hair, blue eyes and short, stocky stature. Because he'd grown tired of being confused for the guy, Mike dyed his hair black, and wore contacts to make his eyes appear blood red. His girlfriend was a fluffy young woman of 167.64 cm. Her mane was the color of Mike's original hair, and she possessed golden brown eyes.

I made introductions all around, and we headed in to the dining room. Much to Lucas' chagrin, and my amusement, Megan was the first to offer to help him create his character. The poor guy couldn't seem to get his tongue to work right when she was sitting next to him. The others watched for a few minutes while Megan tried to get Lucas to speak to her. At last, her brother spoke up.

"For Christ's sake, Megan. Move away from the poor bastard. Can't you tell he's too attracted to you to talk?"

That flustered both of them. Lucas turned brick red, and Megan stormed from the room. Stacy went to Lucas' side and, after several minutes of chatting with him in a low voice, got the guy to begin creating his character. I stared at Anderson for a few seconds, shook my head at his decision to be an asshole, and then went to talk with Megan. When Anderson pissed her off like this, only their mom, dad and I could get her to speaking with him again. Once, their parents decided to let the siblings work things out on their own, but, gave in and mediated after a month of Megan and Anderson communicating through intermediaries.

I found Megan standing in the kitchen with a glass of wine, leaning against the white marble counter. She had her free arm wrapped around her middle like she was trying to keep her body together, or to protect herself from her brother's words.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Not really," she said. "I am mortified. Why does Keith have to be such an asshole?"

"I have no idea, Keebles. I think it's a control issue."

She smiled at the nickname I had given her as I knew she would.

"So, he's trying to regulate my behavior?" She mused.

"By all the hells, don't be silly. He's attempting to police the relationship forming in front of his eyes." She peered at me. "Yes, Keebles, even I spotted the budding attraction between the two of you."

"Nothing like this ever happened to me before. It's like Lucas is a big, sexy and shy teddy bear I just want to hug, squeeze and cuddle up with."

I grinned. It was an apt description. I walked over to the pantry and pulled out a package of Megan's favorite cookies, Keebler Elf's. I offered them to her.

"Munch on these, and ignore Keith. After the game, if Lucas hasn't asked you out, ask him."

She giggled. "You're a smart man, Carter. I'm glad you're friends with my little brother."

"Oh, we're not friends?"

She opened her mouth to protest and took a good look at me: I had crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out at her. She laughed again and tossed a cookie at me. I uncrossed them and, more by luck than skill, caught the snack with one hand. I crowed about the accomplishment and we left the kitchen laughing. Mike was deep in conversation with Anderson and Lucas was putting the finishing touches on his character. Mike glanced up, saw we were in the room and pushed Anderson towards us. Her brother walked over and spoke to Megan as I sauntered over to check out the new party member.

The dining room grew dimmer as the sun sank behind the houses. Anderson closed the curtains while Megan and I lit the candles, to "establish the mood" as Anderson put it. He tended to be impatient with natural light: it was either too bright, too dim, not where he wanted it, or a host of other things. I think he was a bit of a control freak. After he finished setting things up to his liking, he clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Alrighty, folks, gather around and let's get this started, eh?"

We took our seats at the table with me making sure Megan sat next to Lucas. We put our miniatures on the battle grid Anderson placed before us. He put a couple buildings up.

"Alright. Recap: Last time, you guys wiped out a bunch of the Rakshasha wizard Mordecai's lieutenants, killed one of his generals and brought down one of his towers. Shall we run down why your band of heroes is trying to stop him for Lucas? Let's start with the party leader. Mike?"

Mike folded his arms across the back of the chair which he'd spun backwards to the table. "I play Luwaxana, an elf ranger, who wants revenge for Mordecai using the people of her village to construct a philosopher's stone."

Lucas pushed his glasses up on his nose, showing his neat finger nails in the process. "So he enslaved them?"

"They were the main ingredient."

"Damn. That's twisted."

"That's not the most fucked up event," Anderson said. "Megan?"

She smiled at Lucas. "When you view my character, Shauna the Deft, one of the first things you'll notice is her clockwork hands. After doing a job for Mordecai, he rewarded her by cutting her real ones off and leaving her to die. She wants to return the favor."

"That was cruel," said Lucas.

"Heh. Wait 'til you hear from Stacy," Anderson said.

Stacy put her leg on Mike's lap. "I am Ox Silverfist. I'm an experiment of Mordecai's. He wanted to find out what would happen if he fused a red dragon with a troll. After he grew bored with me, Mordecai tossed me to the side. I was abandoned by the side of a road and left to starve. Luwaxana and Shauna found me on their way to the Utterdark to seek aid from the dwarves for an exploration to the Stygian Trench on a treasure hunt. We never got there because of what we found."

"Do you always speak as your character?" Lucas said.

"Just when we play," Stacy said, stretching.

Anderson interrupted. "Carter, did you fill Lucas in on Drago?

"I did."

"Excellent. Let's set up our scene and start slinging some dice." Anderson picked up his index cards and flipped through them. When he had them in the right order, "You've come to a shattered village. A few buildings burn, but most have been reduced to rubble." He glanced at us. "Show me your positions on the map."

We placed our miniatures on the grid that Anderson had drawn. As was usual during our adventures, Drago was in the advance position, followed by Shauna and Ox. Luwaxana brought up the rear.

"Why do you have them positioned like this?" Lucas asked, looking at me.

"It's the soundest formation as far as tactics are concerned. Drago leads because he's the tank. Shauna is the most dexterous and Ox is the sponge. Luwaxana has the sharpest senses, so she makes sure we aren't ambushed."

"What's the difference between a tank, and a sponge?"

"A tank has the highest armor class. The sponge has the highest hit points," Mike said.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for the sponge to be in the front to soak up any damage? Let Ox take the lead."

Megan spoke up. "The way Carter explained this to me, when I raised the same question, is it makes more sense to have the guy that's hard to hit in front to distract the others. Just because Ox can take a lot of hits doesn't mean he should."

"Good point," Lucas said.

"May we continue now, or do you need to know about the strategy?" Anderson said.

Lucas stared at him for a time before shaking his head. Anderson rolled a few dice, consulted his cards, and then turned to Mike. "What do you want to do?"

"Luwaxana is going to scan around and make sure no one is sneaking up on us," Mike said.

"Okay. That requires a check. Beat a DC of twenty-three."

Lucas whispered to me, "What's a DC again?"

"The difficulty in doing something. In this case, I'm thinking Anderson's got some bad guys trying to ambush us. Mike is about to roll and try to get his score higher than twenty-three. Watch."

The twenty-sided die rolled over the table for a short distance. A fifteen came up. Mike smiled and traced his finger over his character sheet. "With ten points in my skills, and a plus three wisdom modifier, my total is twenty-eight." Anderson nodded, consulted his notecards once more, wrote a note and passed it to Mike who read the message, and made his announcement, "Guys, we're being followed. Should I circle around to behind them, or do y'all think we should ambush them?"

I adopted my infamous Irish brogue. "Nay, lass. We shall get ourselves undaircover an' await whoaivair be followin' us."

"Carter, do you have to use that god-awful accent?" Megan said with a shudder.

"Is it necessary to discuss this every session, Keebles?" I said in my regular voice. "I told you, this is how they sounded in Drago's clan."

She sighed. "How can I persuade you not to use it anymore?"

'Show me your boobs.' I shrugged.

"Maybe you should show him your breasts, Megan," Lucas said.

We both turned to look at him. I raised an eyebrow and she grinned at the big guy. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. Whatever she said made him blush. Anderson opened his mouth, only for Lucas to cut him off. "Let's focus on the game guys."

Anderson closed his mouth and blinked, leaning back in his chair. Stacy reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "What's wrong, Keith?" She was one of the few allowed to call him by his first name.

"Nothing, Stace. I'm wondering about the mathematical probability of Lucas saying what I was going to."

"One in three hundred fifty-five thousand, two hundred ninety-three," Mike answered. He was our resident math whiz. A lot of times, I envied his ease with numbers. 

3

After an hour of role playing, and one battle, we had managed to ambush the boss of the area, a savage gold dragon. Unlike in Dungeons and Dragons, they weren't aligned based on their colors. Anderson called for a recharge break. Mike and Stacy went into the living room, Megan sat next to Lucas, talking with their heads together. Anderson scowled at them. I pushed a curtain aside to watch people walking by.

The sunshine filled day was gone; in its place, a nasty thunderstorm. Rain pounded the window, streaking the light from the street lamps. Lightning sheeted across the sky, drawing my attention upwards and across the street. Grey clouds warred with blackish ones. Another flash of static electricity. An image flashed over the clouds in the afterglow of the fulmination. 'I couldn't have just seen a castle. That's crazy.'

Yet the vision stayed with me: A towering black edifice with massive fortifications and intimidating crenellations. The walls seemed like razor sharp teeth. Dragons soared in the air around the thing and a horde of monsters spewed from the tremendous drawbridge.

"Hey, Carter!" Anderson's voice broke into my contemplation. "You gonna rejoin us, or not?"

"Sure. I'll be right over."

I turned, and another flash of lightning froze me in place. A tall man in buckskin fought with what could only be a demon with ebony skin, a pair of forward-growing horns above its glowing red eyes and short ones growing upward from its forehead. The two moved in a blur. They seemed to be equal in skill, but then, the human thrust a pure white sword into the chest of his opponent. The demon crumpled to the ground, and the image faded from view. I shook my head, and returned the table. I vowed to stay away from Keebler cookies and Pepsi. 'They've got me hallucinating.'

"What's Drago gonna do?" Anderson asked.

"Huh?"

"Everyone else has decided to explore, or move. What is Drago going to do?"

I gave myself a mental shake and lifted the miniature. The pewter figure felt red-hot. I dropped it, and flapped my hand as pain bit into me as I hissed in agony and cussed.

"Are you okay, Carter?" Megan asked, touching my shoulder. "Did you cut yourself?"

"No," I groaned. "This fucking thing is hot! Who's the smartass?"

Hurt turned to anger. I glared around the table, but everyone appeared to be concerned. Mike poked my figurine with the tip of his finger and looked back at me.

"This is cool, Carter. You couldn't have been burned." He picked the little statue up. "See?"

While I stared in surprise, Megan pulled my fingers open. She gasped and Stacy said, "Ohmigod."

I glanced down. A nice outline of Drago's features was seared into my flesh. I got up and hurried over to the sink. I ran cold water over the burn while the others whispered about what had happened. The stinging stopped and I held my hand up to the light. With the exception of the faint outline of Drago's sword, the scald was gone.

"Hey, Carter! Wake up, man. What's Drago gonna do?"

I blinked. I was seated next to Megan and Stacy. Mike was next to his girlfriend and Lucas was on the other side of Megan. Anderson stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed. I stared down at the battle grid. A Minotaur miniature was before Drago's.

"Kill him, of course."

"Roll for it."

As the others played, I switched my attention to trying to figure out what had happened. I gave a surreptitious peek at the palm of my hand, the outline of Drago's sword still visible. However, it had the appearance of an old wound. 'What the hell?' I wondered as I refocused on the game.

4

I found a video message in my e-mail from a classmate I tutored thanking me for helping her. After I climbed into bed, I went to sleep with visions of my gorgeous red haired tutee swirling through my head. Somewhere near midnight, I was awakened by an intense glow. I opened my eyes and regretted it. The light seared the retinas, spawning tears as I squeezed them closed again. I gave myself a moment, and then squinted through tiny slits to see a shadowy person approaching me. The mysterious being stopped at the edge of the bed and the lambent energy from the luminosity faded away. He snapped his fingers, and illuminated the bedroom.

A big, bald man with a lot muscle definition, he looked like a tall, swarthy Punjabi. I gripped the sheet so tight my knuckles creaked. I felt dizzy, my chest constricted. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. My rock hard muscles were ready to propel me away if this giant reached for me.

With a voice like distant thunder, he spoke. "Carter Blake. I have great need of your aid. My long journey from home to find you was fraught with peril. I am the Rakshasha, Mordecai."

'Oh, crap.' 

5

I think I passed out because the next thing I remembered was opening my eyes. My desperate hope that this had been a bad dream vanished like smoke before a strong breeze when I spotted Mordecai leaning on his ebony staff. I groaned aloud, and shook my head. I didn't sense a threat from this guy, so I took my time studying him. He dressed in light brown leather armor trimmed in gold. 'I have to admit, that looks magnificent.' Leather gloves sat behind his belt. His calf-high boots were a little darker than his armor and trimmed in coal black. His riveting and disconcerting eyes were the purest white I'd ever seen. His eyebrows, in sharp contrast, were even darker than his staff.

After several moments of silence, he spoke once more. "Like what you see?" His words were so dry, I got thirsty.

I ignored the sarcastic question in favor of answering his earlier comment. "By all the hells, why would I help you? You're evil!"

He sighed. "Yet another thing you got wrong," he said, almost to himself. He tapped the butt of his staff hard against my floor, and summoned the light. He grabbed me by my wrist and dragged me into it, growling, "I'll explain once we've arrived in the Realm."

As his words faded from hearing, so too faded my world. Seconds later, we stepped on a broad plateau overlooking the most beautiful vista. A lush verdant forest stretched for miles away from the base. From my vantage point, I could observe a meadow deep in the trees with a river winding through it. Unknown leagues away, a chain of purple mountains. The air was so crisp and clear I had no concept of the distance from here to there.

A shadow fell over me and a gravelly voice said, "Carter Blake, welcome to the Realm."

I swallowed hard, both scared and excited at the familiar name. I was in the world of BattleHammer.