Making the Rolls

Making the Rolls: Love That Giant

"Okay, Jill. The entire group is dead except for you. You're the last one standing. What do you wanna do?" Memphis was the Game Master. He peered over his cardboard tabletop-gaming screen, trying to look sympathetic. A glimmer of mischief flickered in his eyes.

Jill surveyed the table. It had been a long run. There were handbooks and tomes everywhere. Papers and dice covered all available surfaces. Junk food and energy drinks had been deployed. Most importantly: on the battle map all the game figures were laid on their sides, except for two.

Larry snickered. "Yeah. What're you gonna do, Jill?" Then he added, inappropriately, "Bang him to death?"

Jill was pretty sure that Larry didn't normally game with girls... in any capacity. She was pretty sure he was a life-long member of the Never Been Kissed Club. She wasn't sure she liked him much even though she had only just met him. "Hey, Larry…at least Yanxantha hasn't gotten herself killed."

Daryl chimed in. "Actually, you know…this boy here, obnoxious as he is, might not be completely off-base. We're all dead and your armour is compromised. Options, as they say, are extremely limited." She was fond of Daryl. He quoted the game rules by rote and had been her GMGF (gay-male-gamer-friend) for years. It was always nice to have an ally.

Jill scanned her character sheet. Yanxatha (Holy Fighter of Sphenopsida) was a powerful noble Elfish woman. She had high Intelligence and Strength and, best of all, her Charisma rank was off the charts... almost "supernatural."

"Please describe the scenario to me again," she asked, stalling.

Memphis adopted a slightly Tolkienesque tone. "You are standing on a rocky mountain path roughly 20 feet wide. To your left the cliffs reach up into the mists. On your right is a deep and craggy chasm. A mis-step in that direction would mean death. At your feet you see the remains of what had (until recently) been your halfling thief accomplice, Brudgeon Twinkletoes. His head is bashed in and his limbs are bent in awkward directions."

Larry groaned and muttered, "Enough with the descriptive text already. I know I'm dead. Get on with it."

Memphis continued without missing a beat, "You can just make out, in the tree above your head, the bloody form of Zontor the Mage. He is caught up in the foliage, as still and as silent as the grave."

Daryl rolled his eyes and sighed. "How embarrassing. Please don't peek up my robes."

"Most importantly, a Stone Giant is towering before you. He is ten feet tall, wide of shoulder, and narrow of waist. He looks as if he were carved from the living rock of the Mountain Kings. This Giant resembles an extremely muscular and beautiful man, except huge, hairless, and made of granite. A scant kilt covers his loins and he wields a massive stone club. You may remember this club. It was used to dispatch your friends. It also just smashed your breastplate nearly in twain. This behemoth now bars your way, assuming a battle-ready stance."

Daryl interrupted with a whisper everyone could hear. "Jill. Run away. Get to town and heal up. Come back with potions and resurrect us later. Rocky here is gonna kill you, and then we're all screwed."

"Shhh!," said Larry. "Let's see if our sexy female fighter has got anything going on underneath that fine Elfish armour." He looked inappropriately excited.

Jill sat up straight and squared herself against Memphis. She had noticed on earlier game nights that he seemed distracted by her boobs. Recently she had decided to start going bra-less when they played... just to keep him off balance. Jill asked cutely, "Does Mr. Giant speak Common Language?"

"It might be a little late for that, but you do have the first free move. Go ahead and try." Memphis smiled a toothy smile and reached for his dice.

She nibbled the tip of her pencil. She knew that if she tried to retreat Mr. Giant would get a free shot and likely kill her, ending the game. "What the hell..." she thought, "What have I got to lose… except my dignity?"

Jill began sheepishly, "Yanxantha yells, ‘Hold, fair Giant!' Then she unbuckles her smashed breastplate and lets it fall to the ground at their feet. She looks up at him submissively and steps back with her arms upheld in -er- supplication. She might be bouncing from foot to foot a bit. Oh… and she smiles seductively."

"Perhaps you should describe your character in detail for us, Jill… You know, for accuracy's sake. And don't forget to speak in the first person."

"Really?" asked Jill. "You're gonna make me role-play this out?"

"That's why they're called role-playing games, Yanxantha."

Jill liked gaming with Memphis. He was friendly and smart and he actually listened to her. His bookish good looks seemed to get under her skin. She was also coming to the conclusion that they both might have very dirty minds.

"Oh, sure. Fine. Okay," said Jill. "I'll give you a description, Mr. Game Master, but after that we will have a roll-off for the Giant's reaction to Yanxantha. Daryl here will calculate my bonuses. Do we have a deal?"

Larry blurted, "Memphis, that sounds totally fair. Let's hear Jill describe herself." Daryl was already flipping through various handbooks, looking for modifiers. Memphis nodded, smiling at Jill.

She arched one eyebrow and said loftily, "I am standing on the rocky path next to my fallen comrades. The smell of blood and bad choices combines with the cool alpine air as I survey my opponent. I look upon the primal beauty of his smooth, chiseled features and see a noble brow, with clear intelligence emanating from his smoke-coloured eyes. I feel a twitch in my loins at the sight of him towering above me like some avatar of the ages: massive, primal, and beautiful. The coarse woolen kilt he wears intrigues me as I imagine what is hidden beneath. My shattered breastplate lies on the ground, discarded in supplication.

"I stand as tall as my slight Elfin frame allows. I am comfortable with the beauty of my body, naked from the waist up. I am lithe and pale, athletic and feminine. My flaxen hair shifts like gossamer in the wind. I thrill at the strange, remote intimacy I am sharing with this mountain denizen. My dark nipples tighten as I shift my weight easily from one foot to the other. Is it from the mountain breeze or is it my proximity to this inspiring creature? I raise my arms in surrender and offer no threat. Drawing upon the innate beauty of the Elfin race and the formidable loveliness I know I possess, I smile my warmest invitation. ‘Hold, fair warrior, I beg you. Let us speak'."

The table was silent. Memphis was grinning and blushing. Larry looked like he was in another world. Daryl initiated a "slow clap of respect."

"Wow, girl. I didn't know you had it in you. Ready for those bonuses, Memphis? These plusses will stack: +2 for Elfin race, +2 for charisma, +2 for diplomacy skills, +2 for semi-nude distraction, and a final +2 for implied sexual arousal. Total +10."

"What? Do they really have rules for those last ones?"

"They do in my books," said Daryl, managing to look sensual and conspiratorial at the same time.

They did the roll-off. Against those plusses the Giant didn't have a chance and was easily defeated by Yanxantha's friendly overtures. Jill contained her delight as best she could. There was a long way to go to get out of this, and she needed to see if Memphis was willing to go the distance. "So, Game-Master… What is this lovely Giant's response? Please describe it in detail for us, you know, for accuracy's sake. Don't forget to speak in the first person," she mimicked, impishly.

Memphis shot Jill his best "you'll pay for this" smile. He then ducked behind his game screen to rustle some pages. They could hear the ominous sound of dice being rolled. When he emerged his face was passive, cool, and focussed. He spoke in low resonant tones.

"I am Peter, Keeper of Jotunfold Pass. I stand ready to deliver the death blow to this creature before me. It would be as simple as swinging Kjarnik the Death Club in her direction. I am as fast as the avalanche and as resolved as the butte. I see she is no threat to me.

"She babbles something. It must be the mongrel tongue (which no proud creature would speak). Mere monkey noises. Yet, she seems friendly. Her discarded armour has revealed a strange beauty to my sight. Her skin is like smooth alabaster, carved high and round in pleasing places, but with obsidian inlay on her breasts showing me pert darts of intrigue. I see her glancing at my kilt. She should well be curious of my virtues below. The shifting ridge beneath the cloth belies my mutual interest. There may be sport here."

Memphis took a moment off from playing the Giant to roll a 20-sided die and check a stat.

"I drop my needless weapon and grab this willowy creature in both hands. She is warm and soft to my touch as I lift her close to better view her."

Daryl objected, "What? It's that easy to grab her?! C'mon, man! Peter the Giant is only 10 feet tall!" Larry was silent and appreciative. Jill wore a mildly furtive smile.

"It's an easy roll. He's twice as tall as Yanxantha. Look at the stats," said Memphis. Daryl did, and reluctantly agreed.

"So, Yanxantha, you are currently being held, semi-nude, five-feet off the ground, by a curious Stone Giant. He has a strong, but not painful, grip on you. He is eyeing you intently. You notice something seems to be going on underneath his kilt. What're you going to do?"

They all leaned forward in their chairs expectantly.

"As the Giant grasps me I relax in his hands, making full and meaningful eye contact. (How has he got ahold of me?)"

Memphis rolled. "He's got both hands around your rib-cage, with his fingers around back and his thumbs under your -er- boobs. He's not hurting you. Your arms and legs are free." Jill looked thoughtful. Then she smirked. Then she went for it.

"The Giant pulls me skyward and I thrill at the power in him. He seems able to toss me around like a leaf. I allow myself to hang easily in his grasp. Running my nimble fingers along his muscular, slate-coloured forearms, I rest my hands on his. He is pleasantly cool against my tingling skin. I arch my back while gently tugging at his thumbs, indicating that he is welcome to run them across my erect nipples. Kicking off my boots, I offer a glimpse of my thighs."

Daryl interrupted, "Hey, Memphis. Jill should make a seduction roll based on her charisma."

"Just what I was thinking", said Jill, "with all my bonuses, of course."

Memphis had been looking intently at Jill. "No need. I'll just give you this one," he said with no hesitation. Then he intoned in a deep voice, "By the Four Winds... this frisky sprite is full of surprises. She seems endeared to me, which is understandable. Her breasts are perfectly formed and entreating my attention. I begin moving my thumbs over her dusky nipples and rubbing them as gently as I can. She is flexing her slender legs and showing me where her delights dwell. I will see more. Much more. I draw her in, inquisitively."

"Holy Fuckballs!" said Larry. "What's next, Jill? Is it time to drop your drawers?"

Jill glanced at him. She couldn't be annoyed. She was having a blast and this obviously meant a lot to him. The whole thing was getting surprisingly hot, actually. Even Daryl appeared interested in how this was all going to play out. And then there was Memphis. That man was a bit troubling, she thought. Whenever he used his Giant voice she got a little wetter...

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