This very special 300th episode is dedicated to Sarah, who not only guest-stars in this episode doing four different voices, but is also endlessly supportive and patient with me doing this show, even when she just wants to get out the door and I’m finishing an edit.

Visit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!

The scent of stale pizza, Mountain Dew, and unwashed dice bags hung heavy in Mark’s basement. It was a familiar aroma, one that had permeated so many Saturdays for the past six years. Tonight, however, was different. Tonight was session number 300.

Mark, the Dungeon Master, adjusted his glasses, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Alright, adventurers,” he announced, a dramatic flourish accompanying his words, “tonight we celebrate a momentous occasion. Three hundred sessions of triumph, tragedy, and questionable life choices. And tonight… you face your greatest challenge yet.”

Across the table, Sarah, a wizard player, groaned. “Mark, please tell me we’re not fighting another lich. My spellbook is practically falling apart from all the necromantic energy it’s had to absorb.”    

“Relax, Sarah,” interjected David, whose brawny fighter, Borin Stonehand, had a knack for charging headfirst into danger. “Whatever it is, Borin’s axe is ready. Probably just a bigger, badder goblin, right, Mark?”

A chuckle rumbled from Mark. “Oh, sweet summer child. If only it were that simple. But before we delve into the depths of your imminent doom, a quick recap.” He gestured to a sprawling map of the realm of Eldoria, meticulously drawn and annotated over hundreds of sessions.

“You stand before the Obsidian Gate, the last bastion of the ancient sorcerer-king, Kaelen. Your mission: retrieve the Sunstone of Eldoria, an artifact said to be capable of banishing Kaelen’s perpetual twilight and restoring light to the land. You’ve battled through his Shadow Legion, navigated treacherous ruins, and endured my terrible attempts at elven accents.”

“Your dwarven accents weren’t much better,” quipped Emily, whose rogue, Lyra Swiftfoot, was usually the first to point out Mark’s shortcomings.

“Hey, I try!” Mark defended, a grin playing on his lips. “Anyway, as you approach the gate, a chilling wind whips around you, carrying with it the faint, guttural chants of Kaelen’s minions. What do you do?”

David’s eyes lit up. “Borin kicks down the door!”

“Of course he does,” Sarah muttered, rolling her eyes. “Fighters. Always so subtle.”

“Hold on, Borin,” Emily interjected, her fingers already tracing a path on the map. “Lyra wants to scout ahead. See what kind of nasties are waiting on the other side. A stealth check, please, Mark.”

Mark nodded. “Give me a d20.” Emily rolled, a satisfying click echoing in the quiet basement.

“Seventeen! Not bad, Lyra. You manage to slip past the gate’s outer defenses, a shadow amongst shadows. What do you see?”

Emily leaned in, imagining the scene. “I see a courtyard, vast and oppressive. There are… shadow knights, at least a dozen, patrolling. And in the center, a colossal obsidian altar. And standing before it…” she paused for dramatic effect, “is Kaelen himself, a dark figure cloaked in swirling shadows, performing some kind of ritual.”

Sarah gasped. “Kaelen? Already? Mark, you said this was the final fight, but I didn’t think he’d be waiting for us at the doorstep!”

“He’s been waiting for 300 sessions, Sarah,” Mark replied, feigning a stoic expression. “He’s got nothing but time.”

“Alright, new plan,” David announced, his initial enthusiasm for door-kicking momentarily deflated. “Borin will… distract them. Create a diversion. While Lyra and Elara try to sneak past and get to the Sunstone.”

Sarah’s wizard, Elara, was a beacon of arcane power, usually the one to turn the tide of battle with a well-placed fireball. “Distract them how, Borin?” she asked, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “Yell really loudly about your beard?”

“Exactly!” David exclaimed, pumping his fist. “Borin charges in, shouting about the injustice of darkness and the glory of dwarvenkind! Maybe even flex a little.”

Emily snorted. “He’ll be a pincushion before he even reaches the altar.”

“Mark, can I cast Greater Invisibility on Borin?” Sarah asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Mark stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You can, but it’s a high-level spell. You’d be burning through a lot of your arcane reserves before the real fight even begins.”

Sarah sighed. “Fine. Borin, you’re on your own, you glorious idiot. Just try not to die immediately.”

David grinned. “Borin lives for glorious idiocy! Right, Mark, Borin bursts through the gate, axe gleaming, and lets out a roar that shakes the very foundations of Kaelen’s fortress!”

Mark chuckled. “The Shadow Knights turn, startled by the sudden intrusion. Kaelen pauses his ritual, his shadowy form radiating palpable anger. He hisses, ‘Fools! You dare interrupt my ascension?’ Roll initiative, everyone!”

The clatter of dice filled the basement. Tension, thick as Kaelen’s despair, settled over the group.

“Borin goes first!” David declared, a triumphant grin on his face. “Borin charges one of the Shadow Knights, swinging his axe with all his might! He shouts, ‘For Eldoria! And for all the uneaten pizza in Mark’s fridge!’”

Mark, caught off guard by the non-sequitur, barked with laughter. “Okay, Borin. A critical hit! The Shadow Knight crumbles into dust. But now, Kaelen’s gaze falls upon you. He raises a hand, and tendrils of shadow lash out, coiling around Borin. Make a strength saving throw!”

David rolled, his face a mask of concentration. “Sixteen! Borin resists! He breaks free, though he feels the chill of the shadows seeping into his bones.”

“Alright, my turn,” Sarah said, her voice firm. “Elara casts Fireball! Aiming for a cluster of three Shadow Knights near the altar, hoping to draw Kaelen’s attention away from Borin.”

Mark described the fiery explosion, the screams of the dissolving knights, and the flicker of annoyance on Kaelen’s shadowy face. “Excellent, Elara. Kaelen snarls, ‘Pestilent magic! You will pay for that, wizard!’”

“And Lyra,” Emily added, her tone hushed, “while everyone is distracted, Lyra attempts to sneak around the chaos, aiming for the Sunstone on the altar. Another stealth check, Mark!”

Mark nodded, his eyes sparkling with delight. “The courtyard is a whirlwind of battle, smoke, and shattered obsidian. It’s the perfect cover. Give me the roll, Emily.”

Emily rolled, a hopeful expression on her face. “Natural twenty! Yes!”

A collective cheer erupted from the table. Mark clapped his hands together. “Lyra, a master of stealth, glides unseen through the pandemonium. She reaches the altar, her hand brushing against the cold, smooth surface of the Sunstone. It pulses with a warm, golden light, a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness of the courtyard. You have it, Lyra!”

“We have it!” Sarah exclaimed, high-fiving Emily.

“Not so fast, adventurers,” Mark interjected, a villainous grin spreading across his face. “Kaelen lets out a furious roar, a sound that vibrates through your very bones. ‘You may have the stone, but you will never escape with it!’ He unleashes a torrent of dark energy, aimed directly at Lyra!”

The battle raged, a blur of dice rolls, spell descriptions, and the frantic shouts of players and characters alike. Borin, battered but unbowed, continued to draw the attention of the remaining Shadow Knights. Elara, her arcane energy dwindling, unleashed a volley of powerful spells, barely keeping Kaelen at bay. And Lyra, the Sunstone clutched tightly in her hand, dodged and weaved, trying to find an escape route.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last Shadow Knight fell. Kaelen, his shadowy form flickering, seemed to be weakening, the Sunstone’s light pushing back against his darkness.

“Now, Lyra!” Sarah urged, “Use the Sunstone! Banish him!”

Emily, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and exhaustion, nodded. “Lyra raises the Sunstone high above her head. Its light intensifies, a blinding golden beacon in the darkness. She shouts, ‘By the power of Eldoria, and by the countless hours we’ve spent in Mark’s basement, begone, foul sorcerer!’”

Mark leaned back in his chair, a triumphant smile on his face. “The light engulfs Kaelen, and he lets out a final, agonizing shriek as his shadowy form dissolves into nothingness, banished from Eldoria forever. The perpetual twilight recedes, replaced by the warm, golden glow of a newly risen sun. You have saved Eldoria! The campaign… is complete.”

A moment of stunned silence hung in the air, followed by an explosion of c    heers, high-fives, and even a few tears of joy. Six years, 300 sessions, countless pizzas, and endless laughs had all led to this moment.

“We did it!” David shouted, his voice hoarse. “Borin saved the day! Mostly.”

“Don’t forget Elara’s fireballs,” Sarah reminded him, beaming. “And Lyra’s incredible stealth!”

“And Mark’s terrible accents,” Emily added with a wink.

Mark just laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh that echoed through the basement. “It’s been an incredible journey, guys. Thank you for 300 sessions of unforgettable adventures.”

He raised his Mountain Dew can in a toast. “To Eldoria! And to many more campaigns to come.”

The friends clinked their drinks, already buzzing with ideas for their next grand adventure. The basement may have smelled of old pizza, but tonight, it also smelled of victory, friendship, and the promise of endless stories yet to be told.