Jerry moved from one dusty glass countertop to another, looking eagerly at the rows and rows of math rocks. Some were metallic, some were iridescent, some were sparkly, and the colour combinations were absolutely endless. He looked up briefly to view all of the Dungeons & Dragons books behind the counter, nestled between the Magic booster packs and unpainted minis. He allowed one happy sigh to escape his lips before he returned to his mission at hand: the perfect set of dice for Fawkes. He sifted through the dice before him, unsatisfied with what he saw. Jerry knew then that he would need to dig deeper.

“Excuse me,” he flagged down an attendant, “I was hoping you could help me.” The attendant had long, lush blond hair, and the coolest tattoo of a natural 20 dice face eating a natural 1 dice face on their forearm. “I’m playing a level eight Druid-Barbarian named Fawkes. She needs a proper set of dice. I’m thinking evergreen, midnight blue, and traces of gold. Do you have anything like that?”

They nodded with a slow smile, dropping their head to pull out rows upon rows of dice. The bottom of the case was quite dusty, but revealed a plethora of new options. “Gold? Not silver like the moon?”

Jerry shook his head. “She is Circle of the Moon, but she feels warmer, brighter. I think gold is more fitting.”

They nodded again, running their fingers past the little plastic boxes that held the dice trove. After a few moments, they pulled a few sets out, each slightly prettier than the last. Jerry picked up the d20 from each set, feeling the weight of the die, twirling them to see how the colouring would be set off in the light. He bit his lip, holding out one set in particular. “This is the closest I’d say, but doesn’t feel quite right. Do you have anything else?”

Hesitating, attendant nodded once again before pulling a small, wooden box from storage. The box was a simple varnished pine with a tiny latch. Reverently, they placed the box on the counter between them and gestured that this was the one.

Jerry impatiently flicked the latch and opened the box. He felt his gut do a backflip and a smile crossed his lips. “This is it. These represent Fawkes so perfectly!” Pulling out the d20 first, he twisted it this way and that, noting how the unique mixtures of translucency and opacity complimented the navy and evergreen and the waves of gold shone brightly in the light. Absolutely perfect. The d20 felt heavy in his hand, but rolled evenly across his palm. He began tumbling the die in his closed fist, wanting to try it out to see if it would be a lucky set of dice.

The attendant caught Jerry’s hand and shook their head. “If this is your dice, you must purchase it and let it sit for three days in your home before rolling them. If you do this, they will be the best dice you have ever had.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jerry replied, “What, exactly is your refund policy here?”

“Fourteen days.” They said with a customer service-esque smile. “More than enough time to let the dice attune to you and your Fawkes.”

Internally rolling his eyes, he nodded and gestured to the dice. “Okay great, these ones please.”

Thirty minutes later he was back home with the wooden box set atop his Fawkes character sheet when the message came through from his Game Master. 

GM Nightmare: Hey everyone, it turns out my parents are throwing a birthday party for my sister next Saturday so I need to switch our session. Any chance you are all free tomorrow night?

Goblinsmasher: Yep! I am free.

ALoneNacho: Was wondering how to fill my Saturday. Count me in!

HideYourFife: Count your lucky stars. I am also free 😉

Jerry took a moment to marvel at the flexibility of his D&D party, noting the rarity in arranging five adults’ schedules so they align exactly so on short notice. Then he replied.

FawkesyFox: Me too! Just got Fawkes a set of dice!

GM Nightmare: It is settled. Tomorrow night at 7pm. Be ready.

Jerry sat back from his keyboard, staring guiltily at his new set of dice. It’ll be fine. He thought. They can still attune overnight.

*                                                    *                                                     *

It was Saturday night. Jerry sat around a table with Abbey, the party’s ranger, Mike, the party’s bard, Alex, their fighter, and Isabelle, their Game Master. Fawkes’ dice sat all shiny off to his left and he was itching to use them. Then the time came.

The party had walked into a trap. Abbey, Mike, and Alex’s characters lay bound in the middle of a cavern surrounded by a horde of goblins and hobgoblins. Jerry looked squarely at his GM and said, “As I have Wild Shaped into a Brown Bear, I am going to fly into a rage and try to barrel a path to my companions.”

Isabelle met his gaze calmly with a small smile. “You may try.”

Jerry picked up his brand new d20 and shook it fiercely. With bated breath he released it onto the table, the great click clack click clack of the die filling the unusual silence. It stopped rolling, and Jerry let out a magnificent roar as the die stopped with the 20 face up. His companions roared and thumped in excitement with him, but in his elation he knocked over his mulled wine and toppled the hot drink onto his pants. “Ouch!” he swore.

That was only the beginning.

Fawkes was the hero of the night. Jerry could not be more proud. Though, the cost for his character’s success was quite high. In addition to the sore thighs from the spilt wine, Jerry ended the night with three paper cuts, two stubbed toes, a badly bruised funny bone, almost got hit by a car on the way home, bent his key in his keyhole, and then face planted upon entry. Rubbing his head, he picked up his D&D notebook and dice box, realizing with some concern that the d20 must have rolled out of its case and under the couch. “Tomorrow,” he said groggily. “I’ll put you away tomorrow morning, you lucky dice!”

He placed his D&D stuff on the coffee table so he wouldn’t forget to pick up  Fawkes’ dice in the morning and stumbled up to bed. He fell up the stairs twice, tripped over his feet, and finally fell face first into bed. Happy with the status quo, and a little worried to move again, Jerry shrugged and fell off to sleep.

Jerry slept so soundly that he missed the faint click clack of a die slowly bouncing across the wooden floor of the living room. He also missed it when the click clack noise duplicated. Then triplicated. And quadruplicated. Hours later, the house shook with ferocity and Jerry woke up with a start. 

“Earthquake!” He shouted at no one in particular, as he lived alone. “Earthquake!” Rolling out of bed and right under it, he waited for the tremors to subside. With a great bum-bum-bum the tremors stopped to be replaced with what sounded like a thousand rain drops against the windows.

Funny, Jerry thought.  That sounds as if it is coming from inside the house. He got up, and walked slowly down the stairs, peering around the corner. Sure enough, there was a large shadow in the living room. Very large – about 8-feet tall. In the darkness, he could tell that the furniture had been crushed. Shaking, he looked at the distance between his current location and the front door. Jerry surmised that a dash would do it, but first … he slid his hand up the wall, flicking a light switch.

He gasped.

Before him was the largest d20 he had ever seen. Upon closer inspection, it must actually be hundreds if not thousands of tiny, regular sized d20s in his perfect combination of navy blue, evergreen, and gold. It looked like the unwelcome spawn of Pac-Man and a d20. The behemoth turned toward him and opened its maw, showing rows upon rows of tiny teeth. For dice, they looked quite sharp. As it mashed its teeth angrily, an ominous red glow emitted from its core, manifesting in a set of red eyes. Jerry gasped as the eyes changed shape, turning into two large number 1s.  Not a moment later it lunged at him.

Yelping, he took off for the door, scrambling with the lock. Jerry just managed to jump through the door and off to the side as it came crashing through the front wall. He took off running. Punching madly at his phone, Jerry pulled up the only person who would understand.

The sound of Discord ringing filled the cold, damp night air. The little loading squares twirled around before an individual shrouded in the darkness of a hood came on screen. “Damn it Jerry. Why are you calling me at 3am?”

He was panting and out of breath, yet the sheer oddness of the image on screen caused him to stop in his tracks. “Izzy? What are you wearing?”

She ripped back her hood, a look of impatience on her face. “What I do in my spare time is my business. Why are you calling me Jerry? Why are you all sweaty?”

The dice monster had also stopped, letting out a big boom-ba-boom-boom as it began rolling itself. Jerry gulped and turned the camera wordlessly toward the monster as little dice fell to the ground with each die turn before joining the mass.

The dice monster was growing.

“Oh shit, Jerry. You didn’t listen to Nyxx, did you?”

“Bad time, Izzy, what do I do?” he said, slowly backing up again.

“You listen to Nyxx when they tell you how to attune to your dumb dice!”

The monster started to roll ahead again and he took off running. “Okay, and I didn’t. What now?”

She sighed, camera shaking as she stood up. “I assemble the team. Wake up Nyxx. You better believe you owe us after this one.”

The dice monster trundled faster and faster. “But what do I do in the meantime Izzy?”

“Keep running. Might I suggest going uphill?” She chuckled a little. “I’ll track your location.”