Allison flashed Chuck a hostile look.
TJ shrugged and gave her a quick shoulder hug. “She’s a work in progress.”
Not only had Jimmy grown, but TJ’s prediction about his outfit was correct. He had a shimmering coat of mail over a padded gambeson, metal bracers attached to his forearms, and what looked like matching pieces strapped to his legs. “Nice getup you’ve got there,” Allison said, nodding at his costume in approval.
“Thanks,” he replied, and gave her a mock curtsy. “You know how my mom is. Once she got it into her head that I needed to look beefy, she went all out.” Allison nodded in agreement. His dad had died when Jimmy was in kindergarten, and ever since then, his mom tended to overcompensate. He always had the best of everything, even when she had to stretch.
The third member at the table, a boy with light-brown skin and bony shoulders, stood up and extended a hand to TJ. He was clothed head to toe in shades of green, with a tunic, cloak, leggings, and blouse. Large ears poked out of his brown polar-fleece slouch hat. Leaning against the wall behind him was a bow, whose style Allison recognized from their archery unit in PE class. The bow had a wood-grain texture. Next to it rested a full quiver, whose arrows had been inserted with their fletching downward. Cushioned, rounded tips poked out from the quiver’s mouth.
“You’re Stu, aren’t you? I’m TJ. Pleased to meet you.”
Stu nodded. “Likewise. I’ve heard good things about you from Jimmy at school, and I’m eager to fight by your side.” He turned to Allison and took her hand. Rather than shaking it, he bowed, brushing his lips across the back of it. “Milady.”
Allison giggled and said, “Well, I can’t say anyone’s ever done that before. Maybe this weekend won’t be a total bust!” The boys laughed. “Hi, Stuart! What are you doing out here at this geek fest?”
“I needed to get out of the house for a little peace and quiet,” he replied. “By the way, call me Stu. Only my mom and my sisters call me Stuart, and I kinda hate it.”
“Got it!”
Chuck’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “You guys know each other?”
“Now who’s stating the obvious?” Allison rolled her eyes and Chuck stuck his tongue out. “Stu’s two older sisters dance with me at the studio in Springfield. They’re really good, though I don’t think either wants to be a dancer after college or anything.”
“Nope, premed for both,” Stu confirmed. “Just like Dad.”
“So what kinda character are you going to play, Allison?” Jimmy asked.
“Um. I don’t know, actually. I didn’t really give it any thought. I just figured I’d show up and hit things on the head or cast magical spells”—she wiggled her fingers—“or something along those lines. I don’t even know any of the rules.”
The boys at the table all looked back and forth at each other, then in unison declared, “Healer!”
“Healer? You mean I don’t get to bonk people or cast magic spells or anything like that?” She shot a hurt look at TJ. “This is going to stink, isn’t it?”
“No! No, it won’t,” TJ replied, perhaps a little too quickly. But she wasn’t buying it. He continued. “Well. Maybe it will a little.” TJ held up his thumb and forefinger. “But just because you’re a healer, it doesn’t mean you can’t bonk people. We’ll make sure we get you a club or a mace or something. And technically, healing is a magic spell. It’s just a different sort of magic spell from what I cast.” Allison looked unconvinced. “And, the guys are right. We’ve got a thief, Chuckles. We’ve got a wizard, me. We’ve got a big piece of meat, Jimmy. It looks like Stu provides us with ranged attacks and, if I’m guessing correctly, tracking and other outdoor skills that could come in handy, depending on what the story is.” Stu nodded and TJ continued. “What we’re really missing is healing support. There have been some adventures when we’ve barely been scratched and all we needed was Chuck’s expertise to get us through. But if we get into some big combat and start taking damage, we’re gonna be in rough shape without a healer.”
“And you’re already dressed as one! Sorta. Except for the hat.” Jimmy’s comment elicited laughs from the guys and turned Allison’s face red.
“Yeah, well, you better make sure you don’t get clobbered too much, ’cause I’m not sure if I or my hat want to heal you very much.” She let out a little humpf.
This resulted in a series of “ooohs,” but Jimmy just grinned. “I’ll do my best. I’m good at not getting hit!”
TJ pulled on Allison’s sleeve. “C’mon, let’s get registered and get your character created. It won’t take long, and I’ll explain the rules while we’re in line. Be back in a jiffy, guys.”
The two left the table with a wave and crossed the room to the registration desk, where there were only a few people in line ahead of them. As they approached the line, Allison gave TJ a sideways glance. “So it’s not like you ever shut up about me?”
TJ blushed a deep red, which she pretended not to notice. “Yeah . . . w-well,” he stammered, then abruptly changed the subject. “Here’s the way things work. The weapons we use are all made out of PVC pipe wrapped up in foam and duct-taped like crazy. It isn’t comfortable to get hit by one, but it’s not going to do any serious harm. Different weapons do different amounts of damage, and everyone can take only so much damage before they get knocked out. Different classes can absorb different amounts, and as you level up, your hit points increase too. You’ll be starting at first level, so you aren’t able to get hit much, even with your, um, armor.” He tried, and failed, not to look at her absurdly large breastplate. “You should try to avoid it as much as possible.”
She crossed her arms. “You think?”
“Shush, I’m trying to be helpful and put this in context for you. I’ve been around for a while, so even though I’m only a wizard—and we get the fewest hit points of the bunch—I’m still going to have more than you. And Jimmy, he’s a beast. He could take enough damage to kill you and me both twice over and it still wouldn’t put much of a crimp in his style. He’s great to have around.”
“Well, what keeps the monsters from just running past him and whacking us dead first?”
“Two things. First, he doesn’t carry a sword. He carries a sword. It doesn’t really fit in rooms with low ceilings. So it’s hard for things to run around him, simply as a matter of logistics. Second, his class is called a berserker, and one of its traits is that enemies are drawn to fight him. In rules terms, what it means is that he wears a bright-yellow headband when we are out playing, and monsters will always attack him first, unless they physically can’t get to him or someone else injures them for more than half of their total hit points. So we mostly let him go to work and support him with our other abilities from afar. Stu will be an interesting addition to the mix—we’ve never played with an archer. Hopefully, he’s got good aim, or he’ll be tagging Jimmy in the back with his arrows, and friendly fire counts too.
“As far as spellcasting goes, well, I have a list of spells that I’m allowed to cast during the day. A couple of my more powerful ones I’m only allowed once or twice. A couple of my basic spells I can cast as often as I want. I’ve got these little beanbags I carry in a pouch on my waist. When I want to cast a spell at someone, I call out the name of my spell and throw it at my target. If I hit, it does damage. If I miss, well, I miss. And ’cause of safety concerns, if I hit someone in the head, I take damage myself as a penalty. So good aim is important.”
“Well, what about me? What will I be able to do?” They were almost to the front of the line.
“As a healer, most of your abilities will be focused on, well, healing. And as a level one, you’re not going to have a lot. Nothing offensive that you could cast is going to be of any use against the things we’re gonna be fighting, so we’ll make sure you focus on simply keeping the rest of us alive. You know, like how you used to sit tight on defense back in soccer? And if it comes down to it, like I said, we can get you a mace to whack things with if they get too close. Again, no shots to the head or the, um, unmentionables. Those are no-no’s.”