Dungeon Master

Summary: Conflict arises in the ranks when Archie introduces a new player into Hodges' meticulously crafted game.

Author's Note: I've decided that I need to write Henry more often. The other labrats, too, but specifically Henry. Anyways, enjoy.

The room was quiet, all eyes directed at the man at the head of the table. His back was hunched, a hood hiding his face as he told his dark tale, reveling in the rapt attention the others were giving him.

"The castle walls are dank and moldy, and you can hear strange howling sounds echoing off the walls. Due to the echoes, you are not quite sure exactly where the sounds are coming from, but you can choose to attempt to pursue them, or to move away from them. It is pitch black—"

"Well then, first thing I do is light my lantern."

The man stirred, his head lifting slightly to glare daggers at the voice that had interrupted him.

"You try and fail," he said to her pointedly.

"Cast a light charm," she returned.

"You're a level three elf mage, you don't have the abilities to cast a light charm to conquer this kind of darkness," he snapped, losing his patience.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? So you're saying it's not normal darkness, then?"

"You figured that out by wasting lantern oil and charm dust on trying to banish it, didn't you?" he said.

"Technically, she didn't use the charm dust, as you said that she didn't have the ability to—"

"Shut up, Henry."

"That's right, Henry. Only Hodges is allowed to speak, remember?"

"You know what, Wendy, no more comments from you until I ask what your next move is, all right?" Hodges hissed, irritably.

She rolled her eyes and glanced at Henry. "Told ya."

"Archie!" Mandy groaned. "Do you have the food yet, I'm starving!" She glanced at her companions. "Not to mention I'd like a break from this game. Hodges, how is it you manage to take the fun out of just about everything?"

Hodges sat up straighter, a haughty expression masking the sting of Mandy's comment. "I do not. You people are just clearly not up to my level of role playing."

A door closed.

"Thank God!" Mandy groaned, leaping to her feet and looking at the hall. "What kind did you get?"

"It's not pizza," Archie said, entering the dining room.

"I thought we decided not to get Chinese on account of my allergies to peanuts," Henry chimed. He seemed slightly hurt, like he thought the others had all conspired against him to order Chinese with peanuts in everything so Henry would have to go hungry.

"No, it's not food," said Archie, a sneaky smirk on his face. "I invited a friend to play with us. I thought it would liven things up a bit."

"Liven things up a bit?!" Hodges exclaimed, then calmed down and narrowed his eyes accusingly at Archie. "All right, who is it? One of your internet girlfriends?"

"Close," said Archie, then stepped aside, allowing his guest to enter the living room, his arms filled with take-out bags.

Wendy jumped out of her chair. "Greg!"

Henry's face fell. "Chinese…" he groaned.

Hodges grew cold. "Sanders," he said curtly.

Greg beamed brightly at them. "Hey, guys. And don't worry, Henry—I stopped off at the sandwich shop on my way here." He strolled into the room and placed a bag in front of every player. "Tuna on rye, for the magnificent Mandy."

"You know me too well," Mandy said with a pleased smile.

"The classic BLT, no mayo, for wonderful Wendy," said Greg, handing her the sandwich.

"You're awesome," Wendy exclaimed, opening the bag.

Greg pointed at Archie, who was already holding a white bag. "Archie, you have yours…"

Henry was looking at him like an eager puppy dog as Greg approached. "Ham and cheese special, hold the onions, extra tomato, for the handsome Henry."

"You have a mind like a steel trap, Greg!" Henry said, impressed.

"Well, I used to get you guys sandwiches every day, remember?" he commented.

"Back when you were sucking up to get back into our good graces because you betrayed us," Hodges hissed snidely.

"And that is why you get no sandwich," Greg said, folding his arms smugly.

"Actually, it's because I don't like non-food service professionals touching my food," said Hodges simply.

"Wait," said Henry, looking up at Archie as he unwrapped his sandwich. "Does this mean there's no pizza?"

Archie grinned as he slid into his chair. "So, Hodges," he began. "Care to explain the game to Greg here?"

Greg, still standing by Henry, looked at the board on the table. "Oh, I've played D&D before."

"It's not your pedestrian Dungeons and Dragons," Hodges snapped, clearly offended. "It's much more nuanced than that."

Greg took a chair between Wendy and Mandy. "Oh. Then please, do explain."

"Henry, hand him a character sheet," Archie said, and Greg took one.

"Wow," Greg muttered. "How many things do you have to fill out here?"

"Took us all an hour," Wendy told him. "And we're still not sure we got it right."

"'What's your character's favorite type of insect?' These questions are asinine."

"You're asinine!" Hodges returned quickly without thinking.

Greg looked up innocently and blinked. He looked back down. "Oh, I see what you're trying to do here! Wendy, hand me a pen."

She obeyed, and Hodges sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

"You see?" he said. "It's not that complicated, people. If Greg Sanders can figure it out, I'm sure the rest of you—"

"You have way too many variables," Greg explained, as he liberally slashed his paper with the pen. "You have whole algorithms that are completely irrelevant to the purposes of the game."

Hodges was outraged. "You don't even know the purposes of—"

"Aha!" Greg exclaimed, holding his pen in the air. "OK, look, rather than computing health, attack, and defense points by this complicated equation based on your character's childhood experiences, why don't you just leave it to chance and roll a dodecahedron instead?"

"That's exactly what I asked!" Wendy exclaimed.

Greg looked up. "It would save you a lot of time inventing this random history, likes and dislikes of your character. Especially since it doesn't seem like that kind of thing comes into play in the actual game. Looks like its only purpose is to compute the—"

"Like I said earlier, you don't know what the purposes of the game are," Hodges interrupted coldly. "You can't eliminate the character history questionnaire because it will come into play later in the game."

Greg nodded. "OK, then. Why don't you keep some of the more relevant questions, say… 'Which mystical beast is your character most familiar with?' That way, the character can express an affinity to that type of beast, and perhaps tame one to help them out on the quest. This one's not a bad one either, just—"

Hodges leaned across the table and ripped the character sheet violently out of Greg's hands, glaring at him. "Now listen here, Greg Sanders," he sneered. "I am the Dungeon Master. This is my game. I will decide what is relevant and irrelevant for its purposes, all right? Now, if you want to play, you have to play by my rules or get the hell out of here. Understand?"

Greg glanced at Wendy, who suppressed a smirk, then looked back at Hodges. "OK," he said. "I'll just team up with Wendy and her character, then. So where are we?"

"Apparently in some impenetrable darkness," Henry put in eagerly. "No charm or light can break through it."

"Ah, the old Cloak of Obsidian, eh?" Greg said, leaning back in his chair. He turned to Wendy. "Tell him your character gropes around for fabric. Someone's wrapped you in a cloak made of indestructible opaque black fabric."

Hodges looked mystified. "How did you know about—"

"I stopped by trace to pick up some results but you were out, so I sat down and read the storyline for this game instead," he explained. "I must say, that twist with the badgers at the end, how they turn out to be evil—nice touch."

"The badgers are evil?!" Henry cried. "But I let one of them hold my Rod of Thunder!"

"Huh, that is clever," Mandy mused out loud. "I mean, badgers always look so innocent."

"Silence!" Hodges roared. "Sanders, can I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment?"

"Sure," said Greg, rising to his feet.

Wendy pulled his hand and had him sit back down. "Oh, don't. He just wants to whine about how you spoiled his silly story." She looked at Hodges. "It's cool, we'll still play. We'll pretend we don't know the badgers are evil, and I'm sure you have other obstacles other than this Ebony Cloak thing."

"Obsidian," Greg corrected.

"Oh, right, obsidian," said Wendy with another smirk.

Hodges ground his teeth. "OK, moving on." He looked at Mandy. "Lady Melinda. What's your move?"

"Wait, I'm confused," said Mandy. "Did Wendy's character already take off the cloak or do I have to do it?"

"The cloak is off!" Hodges said, hastily and irritably. "So now what do you and your party do?"

"Well, what's going on around us?" Mandy asked.

"Oh… right…" said Hodges, taking up his manuscript. "Em… er… OK, the Cloak of Obsidian discarded on the floor, you see that you are in a treasure room with high ceilings. You can still hear the howling sounds, but they seem to be coming from somewhere outside the room. The door is locked. On top of a large pile of gold coins there is a gilded birdcage, inside which lies a silver key. On either side of the door, there are two torches. What do you do?"

"Oh, well I guess I go to the birdcage to get the—"

"Ooooh…" Greg interrupted with a wince.

Mandy looked up. "What'd I do? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Hodges added hastily. "Don't listen to him, what do you do?"

Mandy seemed conflicted. "I, uh…" She looked at Greg for help. "I don't know." She looked back at Hodges. "I pass."

Hodges growled, then looked at Henry, who quickly said, "I also pass!"

Hodges turned to Archie, who seemed to be thinking hard, before he said, "Yeah, I pass too."

Grinding his teeth, Hodges turned at last to Greg and Wendy. The former was whispering something in the latter's ear and she said, "Ah…"

"Winifred, your turn."

"Right, right, right!" Wendy was saying as Greg whispered more things into her ear. And then she blushed and batted him away. "Oh, stop it!"

Greg snickered as Wendy looked up at Hodges and tried to stop herself from laughing. "I pick up the Cloak of Obsidian and toss it over each of the torches."

"Oh, this isn't fair!" Hodges exclaimed, throwing down his manuscript. "Sanders, how can I play a game that you already know the ending to?"

"Hey, Wendy thought of that all by herself," said Greg. "Had nothing to do with me."

"Oh you little liar!"

"Hey!" Wendy cried. "You leave Greg alone, OK? The night has been much more enjoyable since he showed up."

"For you, maybe," Hodges grumbled. "Can't we just for once—"

"For once?!" Wendy fumed. "We do things your way all the time, Hodges! Why can't you for once get over yourself and let someone else have a turn as Dungeon Master, all right?"

"Greg didn't spend three months crafting this storyline!" Hodges cried. "Greg didn't calculate the proper equations that make a realistic character. Greg didn't write down all of the spells, enchantments, and magic objects in a universe, and Greg certainly didn't care enough about our game nights when he stopped coming to them after he got too cool for us as a CSI, so I have no idea what he's doing here now."

There was silence. Hodges was staring at Wendy, who glared right back. Greg was staring at the table, his face pale. Henry was looking at him with sympathy. Mandy glanced at Archie, who looked at all of them.

"Look, I have the Lord of the Rings edition of Risk that I just bought," Archie said slowly. "How about we break it in?"

Mandy smiled. "That sounds like a great idea, Archie," she said quietly. She began to clean the table, with Henry pitching in to help.

"You are such an ass, David Hodges," Wendy finally burst out, making Greg look up at her. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe Greg stopped coming because of your jackass remarks? Because you called him a traitor, because you give him crap about becoming a CSI, because you give me the same crap because I want to as well, because you make fun of poor Henry because he looks up to Greg? Well, did you? Because let me tell you, Hodges, I have considered leaving our game nights for those very reasons." She exhaled a loud, frustrated cry as she leapt to her feet. "I mean, seriously, Hodges, you ruin the night for everyone! Why don't you just grow up?!"

She turned to Greg, taking deep breaths. "Greg, I'm sorry that Hodges is an ass. Maybe next time, I can buy you a sandwich instead, to make this whole evening up to you."

Hodges' draw dropped. "Make it up to him?!"

"Oh just shut your trap, Hodges!" Wendy hissed.

And, to everyone's surprise, he did.

Wendy looked at Archie. "I think a game of Risk would be a great idea right now, Archie. Thank you for offering."

But not even Archie had any words left. He gave a half-hearted shrug and nodded.

"I've never played the Lord of the Rings version," Greg commented after a moment. "So it's a battle over Middle Earth?"

"That's right," said Henry, growing excited. "I'll give you tips on which regions are the best to hold. I play this game a million times with my cousins at Christmas. Only when we play, we put on cloaks and pretend we're hobbits." Henry looked around to find everyone staring at him. "What, too much information?"

As Archie and Henry set up the board and explained the different premises of this new version of Risk to the others, Hodges didn't say a word. He watched them soundlessly as they all chose colors (Henry decided he wanted to be yellow, with Greg on his team), until he heard Archie ask him a question.

His mind was in such a fog, he shook it to clear it. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What color do you want to be?" Archie repeated, this time more slowly, as if Hodges were dense.

"Oh…" Hodges muttered. "I don't care, whatever color is left."

"There's purple and—"

"That's fine."

He handed the dodecahedron to Wendy. "Roll to see who picks first."

By the time Hodges received the die he carelessly let it fall from his fingers.

"Twelve! Nice job, Hodges. What region do you want?"

"You know what?" Hodges said suddenly, pushing his purple army people back towards the box. "I actually have some evidence to run that I completely forgot about." He pushed the chair back. "So, um… you guys have fun. Bye."

No one said anything as they saw Hodges walk out of the dining room. He navigated his way down Archie's front hall to the door and put his shoes on. He was just tying the laces when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He looked back to see Greg. He stood up.

"Hey…" Greg said slowly. "Hodges, don't leave."

Hodges shrugged. "No, I have work to do—"

"That's bullshit," Greg broke in. "If I remember correctly, you live for these game nights. Which is why you took it so personally when I, er… when I stopped showing up for them."

Hodges tried to hide behind his arrogant mask. "Well, don't give yourself so much credit, Sanders. You think I care if you come to our game nights or not? To be honest, I like them better when you aren't here."

Though it was meant to be caustic, for some reason Hodges didn't understand, Greg smiled. "Yeah, I bet. Without me here, the only person who will challenge you is Wendy. I bet you have the others wrapped around your little finger. That's why you get to be Dungeon Master all the time."

Hodges straightened his back, seeing if he could somehow be taller than Greg. "Well… they do think I'm pretty awesome."

"Yeah, they do," said Greg. "I mean, really, Hodges, you don't know a thing about friendship, do you?"

Hodges frowned. "What do you mean?"

Greg laughed. "They don't let you be Dungeon Master because they can't stand up to you. They let you because they know you want it the most. They put up with your haughty attitude and your snide remarks and your convoluted games because, for some reason no one seems able to figure out, you're actually somewhat likeable."

Hodges shifted on the spot. "In every social group," he began, matter-of-factly, "there is an alpha. Because of my clear superiority, in this group of friends I managed to obtain—"

"No!" Greg interrupted. "No, stop that! You're not as much of an ass as you'd like people like Wendy to believe."

"Don't pretend to know me, Sanders, because you don't," Hodges said, simply.

Greg nodded. "OK. You're right." He laughed. "Yeah, maybe I'm just being optimistic, because sometimes, Hodges, you really do act like a total ass." He paused. "So go to the lab. Or go home. But Hodges, take one thing with you."

"What's that?" Hodges asked out of begrudging curiosity.

"You may be an ass. But as big of an ass as you are, they still come to your game nights," said Greg. "Maybe there's a reason for that."

He turned around and headed back down the hall.

Hodges looked down at his untied shoe. He raised his head and looked at the door behind him, then back down the hallway Greg had disappeared down.

***

They were still in the middle of choosing regions. Henry freaked out when Greg placed a man in Nurn.

"Wendy already claimed Gorgoroth!" he exclaimed. "And that's our only way out! She'll totally crush us."

"Don't you worry, Henry, I have in my head something I like to call a strategy."

"Really?" said Wendy. "Because I like to call it air."

"Are you suggesting, Miss Simms, that I have nothing in my head?" Greg asked.

"Is there something about my insult that your airhead didn't understand?"

There was a cough. The players all looked up at the entrance to the dining room to see Hodges there, looking sheepish.

"Have, um…" He coughed again. "Have all the countries been claimed yet?"

Slowly, Archie shook his head. "You wanna play?"

Hodges smiled. "My purple army is going to crush you all." He sat down in his vacated seat as the others immediately divvied up Middle Earth. As Hodges placed his pieces, he caught Greg's eye. The old lab tech smiled and nodded a silent approval his way.

The old arrogance was back as Hodges shrugged it off and rolled his eyes. But when Greg looked away from him again, Hodges smiled.

THE END