The Poot Perception: If You're Going to be Evil Part 7

As we awaited for whatever the dice roll was for, Charlie and I looked back and forth between Baby Momma and Little Boy to try and discover exactly what was in the note. We waited with baited breath, curious if either of them had pulled the double deal on us or not. It became clear quickly that he was fucking with us, by the glances our direction with each second he let pass. As he kept mumbling, Charlie leaned over to me.

"You think this is legit, or is he going to fuck us?"

I don't know what you have planned for tonight, but I am hoping not.

Rolling his eyes at my bad pun, Charlie and I looked back at Little Boy as he addressed Baby Momma.

"Baby Momma, there is movement to the south past the tree line."

Nodding, Baby Momma licked her lips as she plotted her next move.

"I'm going to pull my knife move that direction to see what I might be able to find. What can I sense?"

"There's definitely something there, it appears to be roughly the size of a man. You can also smell lavender in the air and hear only the rustling of the trees."

"Okay, I'm going to move closer, adjusting near Neverwas, so that I can wake if needed."

"Roll me a d20."

Mumbling to herself, Baby Momma rolled a 19. "Got a 19, that good enough?"

Little Boy smirked as he began rolling a complex pattern of dice in a varied pattern for the discovery of a new quadratic equation or some such bullshit. The surprising thing was the covering of his final die cast as he glanced toward Neverwas. "Neverwas, high or low?"

Neverwas quickly began cussing, fussing at his misbegotten 'follower' for not waking the supposed leader of the group. "What the fuck, why didn't you wake me up I could have taken care of-"

"High or low mother fucker? You don't have time to bitch at her. Call it. High. Or. Low?"

It truly was enjoyable to see Neverwas suprised and blankly looking at Little Boy trying to come up with something to say or do to stop what he thought was a horrible mishap.

Let us stop this incessant douchebaggery!

Shaking his head, Neverwas proclaimed "Low, dammit. Low." Once again we waited with baited breath for Little Boy to reveal his "amazing" action. With a flourish, Little Boy removed his hand revealing a 78. I looked at Charlie and smirked as he called out "The fuck does that mean?"

Now it was Little Boy's turn. "Neverwas, you're going to take 16 damage to the throat as Baby Momma trips and plunges her dagger into you. Make me a Fort save."

"Oops, my bad."

Neverwas tossed his D20 onto the table in disbelief that such an "accident" could happen to his character. As we watched it tumble, I couldn't help but give a mumbled prayer.

One, you three toed whore-son! Give him a one!

As the D20 came to a rest, after rebounding off of Biggboy's screwdriver, it stopped in front of Charlie and myself. Before Neverwas could grab the die, I couldn't help but exclaim.

A one! Jesus tap-dancing Christ!

"No it wasn't," Neverwas tried to protest. But it was too late. The rest of the table looked at him and agreed, "Yes it fucking was."

Before he could react, Baby Momma exclaimed, "We're under attack! Neverwas was hit!" As one, the party rose to defend against the attack, conveniently forgetting about Neverwas' plight. Over the next 20 minutes, everyone in our party scoured the area, but could never find the perpetrators of the vicious attack.

As we moved back to the campsite, we came across the body of our "illustrious" leader. As each of us mourned in our own ways (looted his corpse), we decided to venture from this hazardous area. Hours later we finally arrived on the outskirts of the city. Luckily we arrived at dawn, allowing for the shops to be open.

As Little Boy described the city of Harn to us, we could tell that something was different. Call it sixth sense, indigestion, or a mild case of the chubby. In either case, our danger sense was tingling.