It’s a weekly event, Dungeons and Dragons,
one which I always eagerly anticipate.
My group of seven and I always treat it like a party
complete with a veritable feast.
We surround the table, scattering our papers and dice,
each raring to start today’s adventure.
They start off by walking into a bar (standard for adventurers)
Some begin to grill for information on a ravenous dragon
while others idly wait and twirl their dice.
Then begins an event that they did not anticipate.
A cackling demon appeared, taking the mage’s soul as its feast.
The rest gave chase, playing the part of a heroic party.
This was merely the beginning of our party,
the opening path of an epic adventure.
The players broke character for a cheese-laden feast,
but eagerly resumed the game of Dungeons and Dragons
their faces aglow with the anticipation,
hands cocked and ready to roll some dice.
First came winning information from a fiend in a game of dice
during the infiltration of a hedonistic, sadistic party.
Next came the plan that the demon could not anticipate,
the kind called stupid by any not in the adventure.
They tracked down a mercenary dragon,
and lured it into their services with promises of gold and feasts.
They held up their end, and got the beast his feast,
but it swiftly betrayed them in a flurry of rolling dice.
The demon was gone, but now in his place was a dragon,
one willing to put an end to this glorious party.
By now, the players were unhappy with this adventure,
praying for some twist that their foe wouldn’t anticipate.
It was true that what happened next was unanticipated,
And ensured the dragon failed to turn our heroes into a feast.
For that was the endpoint of my final adventure,
The last time I would craft a tale with dice,
The end of the group’s weekly parties,
A farewell to the game of Dungeons and Dragons.
No longer was anyone to anticipate the use of their dice.
No longer would I have to pay for the feasts or the party.
As with every story of dragons, there had to be an end to the adventure.