My Life Among The Dice Rolling Geeks

…and how it grew

The Doclopedia #1,375

When Harry Met…: Sasha

Date: June 13th, 1943

Place: First floor girls lavatory, Hogwarts

Tom Riddle walked into the girls lavatory about two minutes after he saw Myrtle Warren run in, sobbing like the blubbering mudblood cow she was. He had a confident smile on his face because he knew that very soon, he would have his first horcrux. Finding the proper spell had been time consuming and expensive, but he had done it.

Finding the Chamber of Secrets had been done without expense, but had taken almost as long. Now, as the rightful heir to Salazar Slytherin, he had the basilisk to command and soon it would kill that worthless girl and help him create the first of several horcruxes, each holding part of his soul and granting him immortality.

Walking over to the sink while ignoring the sobbing coming from the nearby stall, he spoke in Parseltongue and watched as the entrance to the Chamber opened. He spoke again and heard his pet approaching. In a few seconds, it came into the room.

Only to suddenly fall over, dead. Tom whirled around, looking for whatever had done the killing. He had just enough time to feel a sharp sting in his neck before he was wracked with pain and fell to the floor dead.

Sasha Jane Cross walked over and sniffed the bodies. The were dead, no doubt about it.

“Concentrated cone shell venom. Get’s ’em every time.”

She then went over and removed the sound dampener from Myrtle’s stall. Now, that the poor girl could hear what was going on, Sasha spoke to her.

“Hey, Myrtle, come on out. We need to talk.”

The door opened and Myrtle had just enough time to say “You have an American accent!” before Sasha sprayed her with Dream Gas.

Now addressing a totally zonked out girl, Sasha said, “Okay, Myrtle, listen up. You are going to go back to your room and forget ever coming in here. You are also going to find new strength of will and confidence. If anyone teases you, you are going to get right up in their face and tell them to bugger off before you kick their ass. Now run along.”

The human left as ordered and Sasha put up a large sign that read “Goodbye, Heir of Slytherin!” It was very colorful and cheery.

Then she put envelope addressed to Albus Dumbledore and the current headmaster on Tom Riddle’s body before removing the dart from his neck and the much larger one from the basilisk’s midsection. Finished with that, she stepped back and said, “Let’s get outta here, Sweetie.”

A moment later a 1962 Volkswagen Beetle materialized next to her and Sasha climbed it. Then it faded away accompanied by the tinkling of wind chimes.

It was less than 15 minutes later that three fourth year girls walked into the lavatory, saw the bodies and left screaming. Over the next several days, a very thorough investigation took place and it was established that Tom Riddle had indeed found the Chamber of Secrets and was going to attempt a horrific spell. He was deemed to have been killed by persons unknown, the entrance to the Chamber was closed and sealed, the lavatory was completely remodeled and by the start of the next term things were back to normal.

The biggest mystery, however, was never solved: where did all those dog pawprints come from?

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He Bought A Yam, A Ham, A Clam And Some Spam.

…Damn!

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The Doclopedia #1,374

When Harry Met…: Daisy

As soon as the portkey brought them to the graveyard, Harry was ready with his wand and knocked the rat-faced little traitor back about 30 feet, slamming him into a statue. The helpless Dark Lord was flung a few feet away to where Daisy, who had portkeyed in with Harry was waiting.

“How’s it feel to get your ass handed to you by a kid and a dog?”

The tiny figure hissed at her and she shot him with a phaser on stun. He went out like a light.

Harry was just picking up ratface’s wand when the big snake came lunging at him. It would have gotten him, but a phaser blast on “disintegrate”, made short work of the great reptile/horcrux.

T-Thanks”, Harry said, his eyes wide with surprise.

Ratface started to move and Harry blasted him with a paralyzing spell. Then he went and helped Daisy drag the limp Dark Lord over next to Ratface. She placed a small device on each of their foreheads, then she and Harry sat down to wait a few minutes.

“I think this has gone pretty well so far. No dead student, your headmaster has probably got the imposter taken care of, these two are no longer a threat and in a few minutes, we’ll have the rest of his followers. Yeah, our plan is going well.”

Harry looked at the dog, who had a phaser in one…err, hand…a device like a tv remote in another, a wand in her third and a piece of beef jerky in her fourth. Okay, they weren’t hands, they were octopus arms with smaller tentacle-like “fingers” on the ends of them. She was a basset hound, although much slimmer and a bit longer in the leg that the typical show basset. Her ears were very long and she had mostly red fur, with a few small blotches of white. He collar was colored with three broad black stripes separated by two very thin white stripes. She had told him that it marked her as a third level black collar practitioner of Drunken Fox Dog Fu. Harry took her word for it.

“It’s your plan, Daisy. I’m just going along with it.” He resisted the urge to pet her on the head, even though he suspected she would like it.

True,” she said, taking a bite of the jerky, “but I could not have done it without you. I’m sorry you had to go through all that bullshit earlier in your life, but believe me, it would be a day at the fair compared to what was supposed to happen today and over the next few years.”

Harry could only nod in agreement. If what she had told him was true, and he did not doubt that it was, he would gladly take the last 14 years instead of the next 3.

“Well, it’s that time, Harry. The nanites are done getting into those guy’s brains. We can wrap this all up.”

Daisy took the remote and pointed it at ratface. He got up from the ground and then picked up the tiny Dark Lord, who was looking at the her with more hatred than she had ever seen. That sort of warmed her heart.

Harry handed ratface the wand they had taken earlier.

“You know what to do.” Harry’s voice was cold and he would have been lying if he’d said that he didn’t want to kill them both right now. But he wasn’t a killer, so he just stepped back and watched as the traitor bared his forearm and sent up the signal.

Okay, Harry,” Daisy said as she threw the invisibility cloak over herself. “You know what to do.”

Harry quickly lay face down, his right hand holding his wand beneath his apparently stunned body. He eyes were mostly shut, so he saw the followers of the Dark Lord as they appeared.

There were only seven who answered the call. They wore masks, but removed them at a wave of the Dark Lord’s hand.

“Come forward,” the cowardly rodent said. There was fear in his voice, but then, there always was. “Come look at the Fallen Boy, before we begin the ritual to restore our Lord.”

The seven came forward. Not a one had their wands drawn. Just as Daisy had told him, this was going to be a quick and one sided fight.

The moment they stopped, Harry rolled over and blasted two of them with a petrification spell. The remaining five had just enough time to look surprised before Daisy blasted them from behind with stun spells and phaser fire. The whole battle took about 4 seconds.

Daisy and Harry slapped magic draining manacles on ankles and wrists until the seven were trussed up good and proper. Then they walked over to a spot halfway between ratface and the followers and laid out all the horcruxes that were still functioning.

“Well, Harry, will you look at this. A fistful of horcruxes. Of course, we are missing a diary, a ring and that bigass snake, but we still have a cup, a diadem and a locket. Whatever shall we do with them?”

The Dark Lord was feeling enough terror that he was able to twitch a bit. Daisy adjusted the remote and he froze, although his eyes still reflected his fear.

Harry looked at Daisy and said, “I think we ought to destroy this junk.”

With that, he pulled a phaser out of his pocket, adjusted it to the “disintegrate” setting and he and Daisy destroyed the three items in one quick blast.

Daisy walked up to the small former dark wizard asked him, “How does it feel to be mortal, snakeface? I think I should tell you that there was another horcrux you did not know about.” She pointed to Harry.

She then proceeded to tell him the full story, including how a week ago she had given Harry a powerful drug that stopped his heart and, few minutes later, had revived him from death with another drug.

“I got to have a nice chat with my parents, Tom.” Harry smiled as he said it.

A few seconds later a whole group of people appeared. The headmaster was there, along with the more than a bit mad former Auror and several current Aurors. They gathered up all of the followers, including ratface, and whisked them away to the wizard prison, which Daisy had helped to seriously upgrade a few weeks ago. This left the headmaster, Harry and Daisy alone with the…thing…now known as Tom.

“Sir, what shall we do with him?” Harry doubted that the headmaster would kill it.

“Oh, I have a place for him to live out the rest of his life. Sadly, I predict that will only be a few days. Now if the two of you will excuse me, I think I’ll just take Tom and go. Don’t stay too long Harry. I suspect the celebration will be the stuff of legends.”

With that, he was gone.

He’s right about Tom’s lifespan. Looks like it’s 82 hours, 17 minutes 22 seconds as of right now.” She put away her phaser and the several wands she had collected. She pressed s button on the remote and it dissolved into a silvery goo that then slid into her small backpach with everything else.

Harry sat on the ground and gave her a long hug.

Thank you, Daisy”

Daisy licked his cheek as a rather garishly painted school bus materialized behind her. She held up one “hand” with her fingers in a position that Harry recognized from a television program.

Live long and prosper, Harry.”

And then she got on the bus and was gone.

Goons In The Tool Shed

…we never knew how they got in.

 

The Doclopedia #1,370

Assorted Characters: The King Of Dice

The true name of the King of Dice, along with his whereabouts after the Great Dungeon Delve, may never be known. Rumor has it that he was the actual author of 2nd Edition Monsters & Mayhem. The story goes that he submitted a manuscript of over 350,000 words to the First Game Master, all in hopes that some small portion of it might be used to expand 1st Edition M&M. Sadly, he only had the one copy and it “got lost in the mail” according to the Office Manager at Monstrous Mayhem Games. At the age of 16, the King of Dice was crushed by this news. At the age of 19, he was outraged to read a copy of 2nd Edition and see much of his manuscript in it, credited to the former Office Manager, now Lead Designer for the company. The King knew he could not fight them in court, so he began plotting a different revenge.

Jump ahead 10 years and it’s the 25th anniversary of M.M. Games and the First Game Master is at MonsterCon to GM a delve into his famous “Dungeon of the Hell Dragon”. Three teams of 6 characters enter the massive dungeon from three points, all trying to get to the third level and kill the Hell Dragon. The GM is trying to stop them.

The whole event is televised to 27 countries and a $100,000.00 prize goes to any survivors when either the 6 hour clock runs out or the Hell Dragon is dead. The GM’s notes are checked by a private team of experts and no changes are allowed. The same goes for the 18 players and their characters. All official rules for the game are in effect.

The live audience at the con is packed with gaming luminaries, including the newly appointed CEO of the company, the former Lead Designer. He is accompanied by several potential investors, all of whom he hopes will invest money after they see the new 4th Edition rules. This will hopefully get the company back on stable ground after the disaster that was 3rd edition rules.

The game begins and the King of Dice quickly reveals how he got his name. Years spent developing the right hand and arm moves to allows him to roll whatever he needs 80% of the time pay off as his team first kills one of the other teams and then hauls ass through the dungeon grabbing loot.

In the arena, many bets are made on the King beating the First GM.

Finally, the King’s elven archer, a human druid, a half troll barbarian and an elven mage are in the last room, facing the Hell Dragon. The players are sweating, the GM is sweating and every one of the 10,000 spectators has fallen silent. Initiative is rolled and the King gets to go first, but the Hell Dragon goes second. If the Kings arrow doesn’t pull off some sort of miracle strike, the party is almost certainly doomed.

The bowman lets fly an arrow previously soaked in an elixir the druid had mixed up and the mage had cast True Flight upon. The King rolls his dice…

…and scores a direct hit to the dragon’s mouth!

The damage is rolled. 9 points, not even a scratch. The GM is about to roll versus poison when the King asks for a rules check.

That was an elixir of wattleberries. I had them in my pack and they were approved before we entered the dungeon. Could the judges please read from page 67 of the “MAYHEM!” magazine from June of 1980?”

After a short search, the judge read “wattleberries are tasty indeed, but it is also known that when made into an elixir by a druid of 7th level or higher, said elixir will paralyze any dragon, regardless of size, for 7 turns if introduced into their bloodstream.”

Everyone in the place knew two things at that moment: (1) that bit of throwaway text, written by the First GM himself, was an official rule, and (2) the King was about to win.

Short work was made of the dragon, the King’s team was victorious, the crowd went nuts and the newly minted CEO was out 50,000 large due to a bet.

Hoping to get past that debacle, the CEO took the investors up to his suite to show them the new rules and the business plan for the next 5 years. Sadly, when he got there he found all of his paperwork, mock ups and his laptop gone. In a panic, he called the home office only to find out that the couriers he had called them about 4 hours ago had come and gotten everything in his office two hours ago. Except he had never called them about couriers at all.

The King of Dice spent the rest of the convention drinking and eating on other gamer’s nickel. When the con closed, he drove off with the youngest daughter of the First GM, a young lady who had often listened to the Line Manager/vice President/CEO discuss his plans for the future. Neither of them was ever seen again. At least, not with those faces.

A day later, a group of professional thieves gladly accepted a sum of money for all of the CEO’s stuff. The middleman who paid them later sold the stuff to an up and coming game company. That company later produced a game that everyone agreed was the New Hotness.

The CEO lost his job in a rather swift board meeting. The company took 4 years to even partially recover.

The First GM spent the rest of his days writing his memoirs and being a guest at up to 15 conventions a year. It took him 10 years before he would speak about “That Day” as he called it.

The Hella Late, But Actually…Well, Hella Late…Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Lazyass Blogger

co-starring her pet dormouse, Marvin

The Law of Unexpected Consequences Made Manifest
 
So, this happened in 2012, on our way back from CatCon 4…
 
“Fifteen minutes later, Joe flipped switches and turned dials and we popped up in the middle of London, circa 1972. We had not been moving, so when we popped out of nowhere, it was a real crowd stopper. Joe said we had to wait 5 minutes before we could hop again, so I gave in to a mad urge. After running to one of the closets, I hurriedly threw on a rather gaudy outfit, complete with a top hat and cane. Then I left the bus, where a couple of hundred people stood looking at it in slackjawed wonder and traffic was backing up badly.
 
I walked up to a largish group and said “Hello, I’m the Doctor. Can any of you tell me how to get to California in 2011?” Jaws REALLY dropped then, plus three people fainted and one guy dropped his bag of groceries.
 
I then got on the bus and, while the Doctor Who theme played through the external speakers, we hopped. Joe informs me that we most likely created the trigger event for spinning off an alternate reality. Cool!”
 
As is the way of our family, we all had a good laugh and promptly forgot about it for just shy of 6 years. Then, for reasons unknown, Daisy brought it up during dinner. This pretty much piqued everyone’s curiosity, so we opened a temporal window to 3 seconds after we left.

Naturally, since history cannot be changed, the event never happened in our reality.

But in the new reality that we spun off, the shit hit the fan in damned near every way possible.

Right off the bat, there was a panicked stampede. Most folks ran like hell away from where we had been, but more than a few ran toward the spot. Some of them were cops. Two were television cameramen along with the reporter that had been doing some man in the street interview. They had caught our whole appearance in the background and immediately started interviewing people live on the air. Just like they had recorded us.

Live.
And seen by about two million Brits.
Live.

Including Her Majesty, The Queen and several people connected.

As my wife of 21.5 years said, “Holy shit, that can’t be good.”

We fast forwarded a week and found England in both a panic (everyone in government, many normal folks) and near throes of ecstasy (Whovians, geeks in general). Reports of Tardis sightings were in the thousands, along with Dalek sightings, Cybermen sightings, etc, etc. Every even slightly eccentric mode of dress would get your ass hauled in for questioning by everyone from Scotland Yard to MI6 to the NHS. Outside of England proper, things were a bit less panicky, but governments were still keeping an eye on things.

Meanwhile, Whovians from all over were pissed off that the series had been stopped so everyone the cast, crew, producers, BBC officials and the guy with the fish & chip shop ’round the corner could be grilled six ways from Sunday by government officials.

We popped forward another week and found out that somebody in Arizona had managed to get a pic of us popping in when we visited the Grand Canyon. That person got 36 very clear photos of the bus, the dogs, me taking a leak over the edge of the canyon and Avis Crane taking pix of a cactus.

If you guessed that those photos fired the giant shit cannon, you are 100% right.

WE STOP NOW FOR A SHORT EXPLANATION OF TRANS TEMPORAL CONNECTIVITY
You might think that two different appearances in 1972 should have spun off two different new realities, you are perfectly right to think that. You’d also be wrong.

See, for reasons that tend to put me into an eye glazed trance, like events often sort of seek each other out. Thus, these two sightings sort of hooked up into a cohesive unit in the same timeline.

Just like 9 more sightings, mostly in the USA, but also in India, Scotland, Portugal and Tokyo did. One big happy family of Doctor and/or Tardis sightings that created a Shitnado all over the world.

BACK TO OUR STORY
Then somebody noticed that, in the 3 instances that my voice was recorded, I spoke with an American accent. That pointed all eyes at the good old USA, who, let’s face it, would be the country most likely to get up to strange shit like that.

But wait, it gets even better!

People started finding photos and paintings and such of me and the bus from all over history, in like, 90 countries. Hell, they got 57 photos of me, Grace, Spike and his wife Mary, just from Woodstock alone.

Note: They didn’t question any of our duplicates on that Earth because the oldest of us, me, was only 18 and did not look anything like I do now.

By the time a year had passed, the world was pretty much freaking the fuck out, so we all figured we needed to go change their history, which is entirely possible, because it was not ours anymore.

With the Fabulous Four in human bodies, we popped the bus back to just about a minute before we first appeared. This time, however, the bus looked like a common delivery van and appeared in an alley where there were no witnesses. We all left the bus, took up strategic positions and waited.

A few seconds later, the bus appeared, everything happened as it had, but as soon as the bus was gone, there was a big puff of smoke and there we all were, me dressed as before and Grace & the dogs holding mirrors and flashing lights.

“Thank you, ladies & gents! That bit of magical trickery was courtesy of the Dr. Mysterio, Illusionist Extraordinaire! I hope you enjoyed it and I hope the Beeb doesn’t sue me!”

There was laughter and the reporter saying a series of rude words and us making our getaway and then us making a real getaway.

Needless to say, my loving wife, had more than a few words for me about how much shit I had stirred up.

That is, until Daisy pointed out to her that she had probably spun off a reality that time  in 2015 when she whipped out a wand and Stupified 5 bank robbers in New York City. At noon. On a Wednesday. Right near at least 4 security cameras.

Never Hide A Duck In Your Pants

…nobody will end up happy about it

The FINAL entry for this version of The Alphabet. Christ, that took way too long.

The Doclopedia #1,369

The Alphabet: Gardener Dome, Mars “Z”

Z is for: Zenobia N’Golo


Zenobia is an artist who specializes in depicting the neo-rural lifestyle of Gardener Dome. Although she primarily paints using acrylics, she has been known to sculpt in a variety of media. Her work can be seen all over the Dome and around Mars.

She and her husband, Mick, live in a large cottage on Hayride Street, which they share with their two children, their cat, T’Challa, and their dog, Bruce. They often host dinner parties with food prepared by Mick, since Zenobia is an admitted danger in the kitchen.

Zenobia was born in the East Central Sector of United Africa, but her family moved to Mars when she was 5. She is 5′ 7” tall and often wears bright green overalls.

Module 1-Y: The Haunted Dungeon Of The Fart Demons

…EWWWWW, demon farts!

 

The second to last entry for Gardener Dome…FINALLY!

The Doclopedia #1,368

The Alphabet: Gardener Dome, Mars “Y”

Y is for: Yolanda Winkleton

Yolanda is the Tourist Service Answer Woman in Gardener Dome. The dome gets several thousand tourists a year and Yolanda is ready to answer their questions and help them out.

When she is not at work, she lives on a small aquaculture farm with her husband, Benny, and her two daughters, Justine & Millie. They raise gourmet algae. In her spare time, Yolanda collects old 45 rpm records.

Yolanda is a Martian woman. She stands 6′ 11” tall and has long black hair and gray eyes.

Unhappy Curlews Annoyed My Otters

…they should cheer the hell up

The Doclopedia #1,370

The Alphabet: Gardener Dome, Mars “X”

X is for: Xakry

70 years ago, when scientists started developing Smart Animals and New Humans and other genetic creations, they accidentally created a few Mutants. Yes, just like in the comics. Humans with strange powers.

Xakry is one of those Mutants. Despite being 70 years old, he looks about 12. He dresses like any kid you might meet on Mars, but his teeth are too wide and his eyes are a swirl of colors and he sometimes flies and he can create very realistic illusions.

By interplanetary law, Xakry can go wherever he wants except for Class 3 and above Restricted Areas. He has plenty of money from a government grant, but he never spends much. He always seems to be seeing things nobody else can.

Xakry has lived in Gardener Dome for 9 years. He can often be found helping folks out with various chores.