One of the founding principles of Dice for Hire is our belief in the power of connection that Table-Top Role Playing Games, like Dungeons & Dragons, have to bring people together. The experiences are fictional but the feelings you and your party go through as you find that final treasure or slay that final foe are very, very real.
As exciting as it is for people to play our games, it’s even more exciting for us watching people play those games; to see how those bonds of friendship are forged through effort and teamwork is unparalleled. No game is the same.
To demonstrate this, we’d like to introduce you to what we like to call…
Glimpse of the Game
Here, you’ll find stories from our games retold, like you would read them in an ancient tome or best-selling fantasy novel (we try our best!). This is to give you a sense of what it FEELS LIKE to experience one of our unique games.
In today’s adventure…
Our humble heroes, THE DATAHAWKS from VITAL SOFTWARE, have just defeated a wicked witch and only have mere moments to save her kidnapped victims from the clutches of doom!
The chamber — deep underground and lost to the memories of humans — does not smell of dirt and damp rocks. No, this chamber has an acrid smell. A fizzing, inhuman smell. A smell that emanates from the deep pit of sickly, emerald acid that lies in the center of the chamber.
Directly above it, sinking slowly into the vile green muck is a cage full of terrified civilians. Moments ago it hung from the ceiling on a dangling chain, as safe as one could be in the same room as a vile witch. Severed only moments ago by a blast of eldritch magic, now the chain was broken and the cage was sinking. The trapped folk clamber on top of one another, desperate to avoid the carnivorous bog that would feed on them like it has done to many helpless others.
FATHER BRUCE, a slight, halfling Cleric, stands on the roof of the sinking cage with an old, coiled rope in hand. “Be still friends!” he cries out, flattening and deepening his voice to command an aura of authority and calm. “You shall all be safe soon enough!”
The cage’s inhabitants cry out as acid seeps into the cage, and gnaws upon their shoes. Father Bruce prays that what he spoke was the truth. He ties one end of the rope to the cage and tosses the other up, up, up to the waiting hands of VILTHEDA, the broad and brawny, warrior princess. She stands fast on the rickety bridge; a narrow gangway high above the cage. The poor construction of this bridge would have made most quake in fear and stay far away from the inevitable catastrophe that would surely follow. But Viltheda was not most.
“Heave!” Father Bruce yells to his powerful companion.
Viltheda‘s rippling muscles heave. She pulls backwards once, twice, three times-
Suddenly, a eldritch bolt of energy erupts past both heroes. The dark malevolent, bolt strikes the bridge, severing the tattered rope in Viltheda’s grip, and shattering the rotten gangway. The warrior princess and cage of helpless civilians plummet towards the acrid lake.
“No!” Bruce cries out, as Viltheda, the strongest of them all, begins to fall.
The mission is over. Father Bruce and their charges are damned. It seems that evil triumphs today. The Witch — that horrid sorceress in the final throes of life — pulls her twisted face into a final, hideous grin. Dullness creeps over her pupils as death claims her.
The rest of the party can do nothing but watch as their teammates fall: the spurned sorcerer, KVOTH; the Tiefling bard, CHAT; the quick and flexible fighter, PAUL; the noble paladin, FENTON; and the humble archer, TANNIS watch as Viltheda saves herself from certain death, hacking her axe into the dark stone walls of the chamber. She grinds to a halt mere inches from the acidic surface.
The cage continues to sink into the deep acid. Then, Chat, that cunning, quiet bard, whistles a magical, piercing tune. The lightning-quick melody sends a length of shimmering mystical rope spiraling from his knapsack and into his waiting hands. He throws it into the pit to the frantic Father Bruce,. Without hesitation for his own safety, the Cleric ties this rope to the cage.
Viltheda, her axe firmly sunk into stone, her feet inches from dissolving in that odious green river, watches in astonishment as Tannis races to Chat’s side and the two of them begin to pull. One heave, two heaves, three- just enough to halt the cage’s descent.
The rest of the party race to the edge of the pit, their leather shoes a cacophony against the stone ground, as they throw rope after rope to their minuscule cleric companion. Slowly, inch-by-inch, the cage wrests its way back out of the jaws of certain acidic death.
With the flex of her mighty muscles, Viltheda pulls herself from her precarious lurch and drags herself to her companion’s side. Together they pull the cage from oblivion, and rest it on the rocky cavern floor. The Witch’s captives are frightened but they are alive, and they are free: liberated by our party who together — and only together — have never been stronger.
Teamwork makes the dreamwork, huh? If you’re interested in an adventure like that for yourself and your own team, please don’t hesitate to contact us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Until next then, have a great week. We hope it is an adventurous one.
— Dice Master Matt —