A divine game, Not your ordinary D&D game...

[windrose]

A tall leanly muscular man entered the room, his pale blue eyes sweeping the room. Finally he nodded, satisfied that everything was as it should be, and sat down at the round table in the center of the room to wait. His long blond hair was drawn back smoothly into a braid at the nape of his neck. He gave off the impression of a warrior, even dressed casually as he was. He sat calmly keeping watch, his eyes sweeping over the room the only movement.

The room was of indeterminate size. It was round, made of gray stone. The floor was granite, polished smooth and scuffed from centuries of use. A large moon shaped wooden table dominated its center. A semi-circular desk somewhat higher than the table slipped smoothly into the “bite” taken out of the table. Michael especially watched that desk. He had never seen the One who occupied it enter -- but he never stopped watching for Him anyway. It was partly why he was usually the one to arrive first.

His solitude didn’t last long. Soon the others began to arrive, the room seeming to expand to admit them. Three arrived at once, two of them bickering cheerfully as the third simply listened, quietly shaking his head at their antics. The slender black-haired youth was generally grave. His duties as liaison drained away both his innate sense of frivolity and his ready smile. It was only with the muscular red haired man at his side that Gabriel was able to relax and joke again.

The three of them tossed the velvet bags they carried onto the table and took their seats. Raphael met Michael’s eyes with a smile. His healer’s heart lifted as usual with the lightening of Gabriel’s burden. For that alone, these weekly meetings were welcome. All of them grumbled about the requirement that had been set on them to gather once a week here for a “game” -- even as they secretly looked forward to it. Raphael, in particular, begrudged the time he spent here for taking him away from his healing responsibilities, even as he recognized that he needed the time to replenish his own resources -- his own personal healing, if you will.

Sensing a familiar presence beside him, Michael turned to greet the massive auburn haired man beside him. While Gabriel’s companion’s red hair was reminiscent of autumn leaves and one season passing into the next, Uriel’s hair resembled nothing so much as the banked embers of a fire, needing only the right amount of wind to burst into flame. That described his personality as well. He was always a banked fire waiting only the right moment to break free. Michael had never seen Uriel smile, let alone heard him laugh, until these meetings started. Any words he might have spoken to this his closest friend were drowned out by an outburst.

“Dad! You raided my closet again!”

All present turned to look. He was there at His place at the desk again. He was also wearing a t-shirt that asked “Who’s your daddy?”

The familiar boom of laughter filled the room once again even as Michael hissed “Shut up! Would you rather He wore ‘Because I’m the GM, that’s why’ instead?”

“Truly,“ Raphael shuddered. “The last time He wore that one we almost died.”

The latest arrival chimed in “Did you really enjoy dragging our carcasses back to shelter and using up your meager store of healing spells so much, Jesus, that you would begrudge your own Father the loan of a mere t-shirt?”

The swarthy dark-haired man continued with his burden of shopping bags to the counter. Unloading the sacks he filled several bowls with snacks, which he placed on the table along with the usual selection of soft drinks.

“Wal-mart again?” Gabriel asked, even as he held his hand out to Michael. With a mutter, Michael dug into his pocket to extract a couple of coins which he handed over to Gabriel.

“They have the lowest prices and the biggest variety. Guaranteed to have the snacks we all like,” the late-comer replied blithely.

“And you can support a family business at the same time,” Uriel countered.

“That too,” Lucifer admitted.

Michael’s lips moved silently even as he gestured in Lucifer’s direction. When he finished, Uriel raised an eyebrow at him in inquiry. The picture of disappointment, Michael just shook his head no.

“Damn, you’d think the shopping bags would have set it off at least,” Uriel muttered darkly, before tossing his fine over to Gabriel as well.

It was not exactly clear how Gabriel had become scorekeeper and treasurer. He kept track of the party treasury and encumbrance lists. He also kept the tally sheet and collected fines. Any swearing or utterance of the dreaded words “Shut up!” incurred a fine. Since the fines paid for the next week’s snacks, no one minded too much -- even as they semi-seriously accused Gabriel of “fixing” the totals. Somehow Gabriel never seemed to have to pay a fine -- and somehow Lucifer always seemed to be the one to buy the refreshments.

In the beginning, the others had each taken a turn buying the refreshments before settling on the present manner. Jesus had bought comic books instead. They were D&D based ones that he said they could use as research. They were good comics. The entire group had read them and still referred to them occasionally. When reminded that he had neglected to buy food, Jesus had taken a small snack sized bag of M&Ms and made it enough to feed them all. Chocolate was still forbidden at the gaming table.

Raphael had brought fresh fruit and celery. Uriel had brought a roasted hog -- that didn’t even finish cooking until after the game had ended. Gabriel brought in pizza, which wasn’t bad at all. It at least made up for the field rations Michael brought when it was his turn. Lucifer alone seemed to grasp that real gaming called for pretzels and mixed nuts and hot wings and other similar delicacies. They might needle him for his choices, but that didn’t mean there would be any leftovers at the end of the night.

With such mundane things as food and drink out of the way, each of them took up the velvet pouch in front of them, opened it, and spilled the small dice inside out onto the table. As the dice fell, the light in the room dimmed and the “men” sitting at the table changed.

Michael went from his casual attire to full plate armor, a large ceremonial sword at his side. Uriel beside him now wore leather armor and carried a bow. He too carried a large sword at his side but it was obvious that his weapon of choice was the bow. Jesus and Gabriel both wore doublets and hose to distinguish them as bards. The occasional glint of chain mail underneath gave evidence that there was more to them than simple entertainment if need be. Raphael wore his cleric robes, that were at once soft as silk and impervious to any man made weapon. His light brown hair was loose about his shoulders, proclaiming him a man of peace. All five had the soft glow to them that identified them as Aasimar, celestial planetouched. Only Uriel generally did not hide the wings associated with Aasimar.

Lucifer lost his slouching posture and donned a stained gold breastplate, a matching sword at his side. His horns proclaimed him to be a tiefling -- as if there could be any doubt. His dark cloak and soft soled shoes concealed his presence and the sound of his passage, making his job as the group’s rogue much easier.

Expectantly, they looked to their Game Master and waited for the game to begin.

[Cobalt]

Very ncie, as always. Is there more to this story?