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“Okay, so last session we left off on the plains of Troy-”
“I thought you said it was Ilium,” Achilles interrupts him.
Odysseus lets out a frustrated sigh. Once, just once would they let him finish his monologue? “They’re the same thing, now let me finish. The goblin army is advancing. You talked to king Agamemnon and he petitioned you to fight for him, promising gold and eternal glory.”
Achilles leans back in his chair. He’s going to say something stupid. “He also called me weak, I’m not fighting for him. He’s lucky I let him live.”
“Achilles, you can’t just go around killing kings.” At least he can count on Patroclus to keep this show somewhat on the road.
“It’s what my character would do,” he hears Achilles mutter and promptly decides to ignore it.
“So.. what? Are you serious, you’re not gonna fight? This is all I prepped for tonight.”
Achilles shrugs and gets up. “No worries, I’ll just sit this one out. Anyone want a drink?”
He’s unbelievable.
“Alright, Patroclus. The mighty Sarpedon, one of the goblin generals, comes charging at you, his greatsword cleaving through the air. What do you do?”
“Uh..” he looks down at his character sheet. “I’m gonna try to attack him with my longsword.”
Achilles came back with their drinks a while ago, and has been staring at his boyfriend like a love struck puppy ever since. “Here babe, use my dice.” He picks up the seagreen gem-like d20, kisses it, and then hands it to Patroclus, who accepts it with a blush. As if there aren’t two other people in the room with them.
Odysseus clears his throat and Patroclus at least seems to snap back to the present. He rolls the die and then exclaims with a grin: “Natural 20! I smite him with a second level spell slot.”
Okay. Okay what.
“That is… and he’s dead. You oneshot my general.”
“Switching back to the camp, Achilles, what are you doing?”
Achilles blows a strand of hair out of his face. “I think I’m gonna take a swim.”
He loves his friends, he loves his friends, he loves his friends, Odysseus keeps telling himself.
“Do you want to do anything else?”
“Can I compose a song?”
“Do you have proficiency with any musical instruments?”
Achilles takes a close look at his sheet, as if the extra proficiency might suddenly appear. “... No.”
“Then no.”
“Alright, back to the battlefield. Patroclus, make a Wisdom save.”
He rolls the die and winces at the result. “Does a 12 save?”
Odysseus shakes his head. “Afraid not, DC is 15. You feel compelled to start climbing up the wall.”
Patroclus moves his token forward. “So sick and twisted for you to throw this at me just before we hit level 6, I would’ve made the save then. Okay, I climb the wall.”
“You see a radiant-like being at the top. With your proficiency in religion, you can tell this is Apollo.”
Patroclus sucks in his breath and flips through his notes. “Isn’t that the god Agamemnon pissed off?”
“It is.”
Achilles is watching between the two of them like a hawk.
“Well fuck me,” Patroclus laughs. “I don’t think I wanna work for him anymore.”
Odysseus gets up so he can lean over his DM screen and reach the map. “When you reach the top, Apollo pushes you down,” he flicks Patroclus’ mini off the wall. “You take 31 falling damage."
“Oh shit,” he says when he writes down his new hitpoint total. “I’m nearly down.”
“And you’re prone,” Odysseus adds. “Hector, the goblin prince approaches you.”
“Why is a goblin called Hector?” Achilles interrupts.
Breathe. In, and out. “Achilles shut up, you’re still at camp.”
“Okay so um… I get up so I’m no longer prone,” Patroclus says. “And then I’m gonna attack Hector.” He lets out a sigh. “That’s a nat 1.”
“Oof, it misses. Maybe you’re still a little dazed from Apollo or from the fall? Hector is gonna swing his spear at you and…” he rolls the dice. “Um. How much HP did you say you have left?”
Patroclus is silent for a moment. “Seven.”
“I rolled a crit,” Odysseus says softly. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
Patroclus must see his expression as he gives him a reassuring smile. “There’s always death saves.”
“What is your max HP?”
The smile disappears. “Um… 52.”
“I rolled 60 damage,” he admits. He could have fudged it, but that’s not his style.
“Oh, huh,” Patroclus says, oddly calm. “I’m dead. I fall to the ground, clutching my stomach where Hector speared me. I think of Achilles and the oath I swore and I die satisfied, knowing I will see him again in the afterlife, many, many years from now.”
They hear a sniffle from the other side of the table, and see Ajax wipe away a tear. “That was beautiful.”
It’s dead quiet at the table after that, Odysseus really needs to have this moment sink in. Then, he turns to Achilles. “Achilles, you’ve been at camp all day, lounging around, swimming, grate on everyone’s ears as you try to pluck a string. Suddenly, you see Ajax returning, it looks like he’s carrying someone in his arms. When he gets closer, you can see it’s Patroclus’ lifeless body.”
Achilles looks down at the table. “Why would you do this to me,” he whispers. Then he takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna let out a scream as loud as Thunderwave.”
“You cannot cast Thunderwave.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s flavour, shut up. Alright, then I’m gonna run at Ajax and take Patroclus from him and weep over his dead body.” He looks at Ajax across the table. “Who did this?”
“Um. It was Hector.”
“Then Hector will die today.”
“It’s starting to get dark,” Odysseus informs him.
“I don’t care, I’ve rested all day.”
“You don’t have darkvision.”
“Fuck. Hector will die tomorrow,” Achilles amends. “I’m going to carry Patroclus to our tent.”
Ajax, finally realising he’s also in this game and able to speak up, frowns at him. “We’re not gonna bury him?”
Achilles shakes his head, and moves both his and Patroclus’ mini to the tent. “I cannot bear to part from him.”
Ajax looks at Odysseus, clearly at a loss for what now. They say a picture can say a thousand words, but in this case it’s just three. What the fuck.
“Achilles, you know I’m not like.. out of the game right?” Patroclus asks softly. “I’ll just make a new character for next time.”
“It’s not the same!” he exclaims. “Our characters have history, they’re childhood best friends! My character loves yours more than himself.”
Patroclus blushes. “He loved you too.”
Odysseus clears his throat, eager to interrupt whatever this is. “Time for a long rest, I think.”
“I’m going to stay vigil by Patroclus’ body all night.”
Odysseus loves his friends, he loves his friends. Just maybe not Achilles.
“What,” says Ajax.
“Roll me a con save to see if you take exhaustion,” Odysseus says with a sigh. It’s useless, Achilles somehow always makes the saves in an important moment.
“Twelve.” See?
“Alright. Your love for Patroclus is enough to pull you through the night. Somehow.”
Achilles looks triumphant and Odysseus pulls up the battle map again. “I’m gonna rage and kill any goblin that comes between me and Hector.”
And he does, because Achilles always rolls ridiculously well. He lets Patroclus roll for some of the enemies because he feels bad for killing him off so suddenly. He hadn’t planned for that to happen.
Until: “Why does Patroclus get to play the goblins and I didn’t?”
“You chose not to fight. And I actually trust Patroclus.” That shuts him up, at least until he puts Hector’s mini on the map.
“HECTOR!” Achilles exclaims. Odysseus is so glad the room is somewhat soundproof. He’s not sure how he would explain this to Penelope.
He leans over the DM screen again to hand Patroclus a sheet. Hector’s sheet.
Achilles’ mini has caught up to Hector, they’re face to face now. “I will eat you raw.”
“Kinky,” Patroclus mutters under his breath. Odysseus wishes he could unhear.
Achilles crits, because of course he does. And then he crits again on his second attack despite picking a d20 from Odysseus’ dice jail. It’s unfair, really, how much the dice gods favour him.
“I’m gonna tie my rope around Hector’s legs and drag him across the battlefield.”
What. The. Fuck.
“What,” it sounds from all three of them.
“He killed my beloved,” Achilles tries to defend himself. Odysseus is judging him so hard right now.
“Well. You can certainly do that.”
Achilles keeps fighting and refusing to sleep but frustratingly so, also keeps beating the increasing DC. Until it’s at 25 and impossible to beat for him anymore. And Odysseus is so done with it, his friends have completely derailed the campaign. He doubts he’ll get to use the wooden horse figure he painted last weekend now.
“Does a 25 hit?” he asks Achilles.
“Uh yeah, obviously.”
“One of the archers from up on the wall shot you. That’s,” he rolls, “25 points of damage.”
“Alright, so 12 since I’m raging and it’s piercing damage,” Achilles hums.
Odysseus grins. “No, it’s radiant. Apollo is guiding him.”
“Apollo is a little bitch,” Achilles mutters. “I’m down.”
Ajax lets out a sigh. It’s just him now, on the battlefield. And he’s too far away to get to Achilles on his turn and stabilise him.
“Can I choose to fail my death saves?”
“What.” Just when you think you’ve heard it all.
“Yeah, I think my character would be relieved it’s over, and that he can be reunited with his love in the underworld.”
Odysseus sighs. “Sure. Ajax?”
“I guess I’ll dash and carry Achilles back to camp?”
He nods and changes the map.
“I’ll uh, I’ll go bury them. Together,” Ajax says.
That would be a good point to end tonight’s session, except-
“And then I’m killing myself because my friends both died.”
The table is quiet. They all look at Odysseus, waiting for his reply. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath. “I can’t believe you guys. A TPK! I wrote a whole second arc for this campaign, you know! How you’d find your way home from the war and the perils on your way. And now, you’re all dead. That's it, the end.”