Title:
Happy Birthday, Mike!
Dreadstone found himself inexplicably sitting at a circular wooden table, in the middle of a fancy restaurant.
"What in the nine hells..." he grumbled to himself, nonplussed.
"Sir," a female voice chirped in from beside him, "It seems we've been taken away from the battle."
"I can see that," he said, his voice lowered. "And from the looks of it, we ain't the only ones been brought here against our will."
Dreadstone's Sense Motive (1d20+10=23)
There were several other figures seated around the table, all of them appearing as confused as he felt. Gnaw, his trusty, half-feral animal companion, was in a chair next to him, but the rest were unfamiliar. A fancy-looking human man, looked to be about 30; a damn fool wearing a rubber helmet and a cape; a man made of metal.
They were all wearing festive, coned cardboard hats on their heads. Including Gnaw.
He felt atop his own horned head, and sure enough...
He slammed his gauntleted hand on the table. "One of you knows what's goin' on here," he growled, "And you'd best be spittin' it out right quick, 'fore I get angry."
Dreadstone's Intimidate (1d20+25=43)
"Analysis complete," the metal man said, with a metal voice. "My readings indicate that the atmosphere in this world is identical to that from which we originated. Latent magical energies, however, are nonexistent. Fascinating."
The human male steepled his hands and leaned back in his chair. "Absolutely. Fascinating indeed," he deadpanned. His eyes surveyed the table, finally meeting Dreadstone's with a gaze of steel. "Tell me, my charcoal-skinned friend, why should we believe that this isn't all some sort of plot that you've orchestrated to bring us here? I am an upstanding member of the community; the last thing I remember is finishing my shift, volunteering at the Ruby Keep Public Library."
Val's Bluff Check (1d20+35=49)
Dreadstone frowned. The story, as implausible as it sounded, had a ring of truth to it that he couldn't deny. He looked at the fool in the rubber helmet. "And what's your story? Who're you?"
"I am Batman," said the man.
Gnaw growled. Dreadstone tried to pet his head to calm him down, but he was met with that ridiculous cardboard hat. "Batman? You pullin' my leg, Son?"
"His heart rate, breathing patterns, and heat signatures indicate that he is telling the truth," said the metal man. "It is logical to conclude that his name is Batman."
"And just who the hells are you?"
"My designation is Jack. Jack Slate. I do not know how I arrived here. My most recent memory was an explosion that caused irreparable damage to my neural net."
Dreadstone caught a glance of something in the eyes of the librarian - a faint glimmer of recognition, maybe? "You two know each other, don't ya?"
"Of course they do," said a new voice. Everyone looked in its direction. A human man, similar to the librarian's age but dressed completely differently, was approaching the table. His hair was black; he wore coarse blue pants and a gray shirt made of an overly thin material. "They were partners, after all."
"I protest, Sir!" said the librarian, indignantly. "I have never seen any of these people in my life! Why--"
"Relax, Val," said the newcomer. "You can't fool me. I'm the one writing this story. My name's ThLunarian. You're all here in this restaurant because of me. I'm borrowing you for a little while."
"Borrowing us?" Chloe said uneasily. "What does that mean?"
"Well," said ThLunarian, "It's your creator's birthday. You don't know who he is, of course, but his name is Mike. All of you-- well, most of you, anyway -- were born from an idea that came out of his head, and I thought I'd bring you all together to help him celebrate."
"Our creator?" said Val. "So like a god, then? I've never heard of a god with such a mundane name as 'Mike'."
"Even more powerful than a god," said ThLunarian. "In fact, he
makes gods."
There was a moment of silence at the table as everyone contemplated that. Finally, Val spoke up again, but not before steepling his hands a second time. "You said 'most' of us were the creations of this 'Mike' character. Who among us was not?"
ThLunarian pointed to Batman. "Him."
"Then what's he doing here?"
ThLunarian shrugged. "Beats me. Mike requested that he be here, and it's his birthday, so who am I to argue?"
"Looks like a damned fool," said Dreadstone.
"You think so?" said ThLunarian. "Because you were originally going to be based on him, you know."
Dreadstone shot ThLunarian a glare that could wither an entire garden of roses.
"So," said Val, steepling his hands yet again, "You've brought us here to celebrate the birthday of our supposed creator. That's all well and good, but where exactly is 'here'?"
ThLunarian smiled. "This is the restaurant where I met up with him when I visited Seattle. It has a really nice view of the lake if you look out the window. It's called Eastlake Bar and Grill."
Dreadstone did have to admit that the view was nice. The water was sparkling in the sunlight.
"So wait a moment," said Chloe, who was apparently flustered enough to drop her persona as a green, overeager soldier. "If we're all here because of you, and you 'borrowed' us, and Mike 'created' us, doesn't that mean we don't have any control over what we say? In fact, aren't you putting these words into my mouth as I'm saying them RIGHT NOW?"
"Mind your own business," said ThLunarian
"Well, then," Val said, his voice dripping with sarcasm (and not steepling his hands this time), "If we're to celebrate a birthday, I suppose that means we need a cake, doesn't it? Why don't I just run to the local bakery and order something spectacular? Not like I have anything better to do with my day. I'm only singlehandedly responsible for rebuilding the most esteemed organization of thieves in the history of the world, but who cares about that! Somebody was born on this day an unknown number of years ago!"
"Wait just a damned minute," Dreadstone said incredulously, "What do you
mean thieves? And you said you're from Ruby Keep?"
"No, we won't be doing a cake," said ThLunarian, ignoring the tiefling. "I have something much better."
As if by magic, an enormous plate of nachos appeared on the table. Next to it was a heaping dipping cup full of guacamole. There were lit candles sticking out of the cheese.
"This ain't kosher," said Dreadstone.
"Grrrr...." said Gnaw.
"I'm having an existential crisis," said Chloe.
"Fascinating," said Jack.
"I am Batman," said Batman.
Val glanced uncertainly at Dreadstone. "Well," he said nervously, "Who am I to stand in the way of my creator's birthday celebration? Where is our esteemed creator? I should like to thank him myself for my... uh... well, my existence!"
"Oh he's watching," said ThLunarian. "You just can't see him. But he'll see whatever you do and hear whatever you say. Creepy, isn't it?"
Chloe looked like she was going to be sick.
"So," said ThLunarian, "Why don't we all sing him a song?"
"A song?" said Dreadstone. "You've got to be kiddin' me. I got a kingdom to save..."
"A song?" said Val. "What a marvelous idea! Why don't I get us started? Happy Birthday to You..."
Chloe's Will Save (1d20+12=15)
"Happy Birthday to you," Chloe continued, horrified that her lips seemed to be moving against her will.
Jack's Will save (1d20 + 10=21)
"Happy birthday dear Mike," said Jack, entirely tone-deaf and without melody.
Gnaw's Will Save (1d20+5=23)
"Happy Birthday to You!" said Gnaw, somehow.
"I am Batman," said Batman.
Dreadstone grimaced, facepalming and shaking his head. "Well," he said, "Least I didn't have to..."
Dreadstone's Will Save (1d20+10=17)
Suddenly Dreadstone leaped from his chair and landed on top of the table. He got on his knees and looked toward the sky, pouring all of his heart and emotion into the following melodic words:
"And many moooooooore!"
(end)