Page 591 of End Game

“What the fuck is that?”

“A chuul.”

Dex leans closer. “It looks like a lobster had sex with trauma.”

“That is not an inaccurate description.”

Griffin studies the miniature. “Can it grab us?”

“Yes.”

Dex points at him. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because I want to know.”

“Some truths do not improve your life.”

While they argue, Micah studies the grid.

“Can I get behind the mage from here?”

I follow the path with one finger. “If you use your bonus action to Dash. You'll provoke an opportunity attack from the mercenary beside you.”

“Worth it.”

He moves.

The mercenary misses.

Micah reaches the mage and picks up his d20.

“Attack.”

The die rolls across the tray and lands on twenty.

For a brief second, Micah simply looks at it.

Then the table erupts.

Dex is halfway out of his chair. “FUCK YES.”

Cami grabs Micah's arm with both hands.

Griffin smacks one palm against the table.

Micah looks up at me, and his expression is different than it was when he sat down.

Certainly not fixed.

I do not think grief is particularly interested in being fixed over pizza and dice.

But he is present.

Fully.

“Roll damage,” I tell him.

He gathers the appropriate dice, adds Sneak Attack, and produces a number so excessive that I look down at the mage's remaining hit points and don't bother pretending the result is uncertain.