"You stand before the entrance to Xul’troka’s lair, a forbidding arch of rune-covered black stone. What do you do now?" said Theodore, the dungeon master. The players looked weary, even haggard, but he knew they were caught up in the story. They always were. Nobody could tell tales of fantasy and mind-bending magic like he could. This group had signed up just a few weeks before and ended up playing nearly eight hours a day, every day, sometimes foregoing work and school just to be here. The paladin, this group’s leader, looked grim and tired from sleep deprivation.

"We take a short rest, and then enter. This is it, guys. Tonight the big bad gets it," he said. The rest of the group nodded and cheered. He let them restore hit points and spells before continuing.

"You harden your resolve and enter the dark portal. As you pass through, you hear faint chanting: yora ila-soqqi’no ziainoq do’pra xa’klup ba’ra-din zo…" Theodore intoned, and the dark words filled the space of his crappy little apartment. The light in the room seemed to dim, and the skin on his arms broke out in goosebumps. The players felt it too.

"Hey, what the hell is going on," the boy who played the cleric started saying before trailing off and falling unconscious. The others mumbled words of protest, but soon they were incapacitated. Theodore continued the ritual, and soon the darkness was complete. Moments later, the light returned and they were elsewhere: a dark cave with torches burning in sconces on the wall had replaced the cheap apartment. The players were unconscious on the stone floor, but some were already waking up. Figures emerged from the gloom and surrounded them. One of them approached: Xul’troka, the Lich Lord, his master and benefactor.

"Thhheeeeooodooorreee," the grand abomination hissed, "you returrrrn with new flesh."

"Yes, lord, more fools have fallen into my net," Theodore replied, bowing deeply.

"Youuuuu did welllll. My minions shall feassssst well on their meat, once I have takennnn their life energy. And for youuu, my dear ssssservant, I have prepared a rewardddd of the darkest talessss from many cursed lands," the undead wizard said in a voice like the wind howling over forgotten graves. Behind them, one of the players shrieked in abject terror as shriveled but inhumanly strong animated corpses held him in an inescapable grip.

"My lord is too kind," Theodore replied, obsequiously.

"Waaiiiit in my chamberssss, I shallll join you sssshortly," Xul’troka said, moving hungrily toward the struggling, panicked players.

"Yes, m’lord," Theodore said, turning away and walking toward his master’s throne room, where he would soon listen to more of the most fantastic tales from a thousand dark, cursed worlds; his coveted and just reward for a job well done.