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“NO. FRANCESCO. NO DO- DO NOT. DO NOT DO THIS, I WILL GIVE YOU PHYSICAL MONEY NOT TO DO THIS-“
“Hey! No you can’t! No bribes allowed!” Novella interjected
Giuliano shot her a truly poisonous glare, and Francesco had to try and hold back a grin.
“Novella he's about to murder me?.”
Francesco rapped his ring on the table, getting Giuliano’s attention.
“How much are you willing to pay me?”
Giuliano shoved his hand in his pocket and frantically searched it, bringing back up a fistful of money.
“I have TWELVE EURO.”
“Twenty.”
Giuliano’s eyes went desperate.
“I don’t have that!”
Francesco leaned back in his seat.
“Unfortunate...”
“DUDE! COME ON MAN.”
This last exclamation was apparently too much for Lorenzo, who was the one unfortunate enough to be sitting next to The Man About To Die.
“Inside voices? Hello?” he said, visibly leaning away from his brother.
Giuliano couldn’t seem to decide whether to glare at Lorenzo or Francesco, but Lorenzo won out.
“I do NOT take orders from a man who refuses to stop his best friend from stabbing his brother in the back! Literally!”
Guglielmo cleared his throat.
“Uh, it’s not Lorenzo’s turn, he couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to,” he said.
Novella giggled and Giuliano made a strangled noise at the both of them for ‘supporting his murder’. Francesco just watched it all, hopelessly amused.
The session had started fairly innocuously, but the party’s DM— Sandro— had really managed to outdo himself this time.
The table was in an uproar. That was always a good sign when playing DnD, because it meant that the campaign had done something truly ridiculous. And tonight? Francesco had been the lynch pin to just that sort of chaos.
He studiously ignored Giuliano’s pleading and rolled a D20 between his fingers with a frown. He looked over to Sandro.
“Do I have to roll to stab if the target doesn’t see it coming?” He asked innocently as Giuliano- seated across from him- gasped and swore.
Sandro was trying in vain not to smirk. Desperately attempting to maintain some level of neutrality in the face of possible player death, he nodded.
“Yeah, give it a roll. 7 or higher and it’s a hit,” he said. Francesco nodded and shook the die in his hands. The moment of truth.
Lorenzo, Giuliano, Guglielmo, and Novella all watched in horrified (not quite) silence as Francesco released the dice and it skidded across the table.
Sandro craned his neck over his screen and nodded.
“Thirteen. A successful stab in the back,” he said.
Giuliano stood up from his chair and dramatically threw his character sheet in the air. It would have looked cooler had it not been a piece of paper, which predictability flew back and hit him in the face.
“Are you KIDDING me right now!?” he shouted. Whether the anger was about the backstabbery or the paper, Francesco dared not ask.
Next to him, Lorenzo was laughing. Giuliano turned his head from Francesco to him, a look of exaggerated betrayal on his face.
“Why are you laughing! Do you think this is funny? Your traitorous friend just killed me!” he said, pointing violently at Francesco.
Francesco smirked at him and winked, causing Giuliano to make a scandalized sound in the back of his throat. Lorenzo, for his part, was still laughing.
“I- I’m sorry brother this— this isn’t even funny I just can’t stop laughing,” he continued to laugh.
“It’s a bit funny,” Guglielmo said.
Francesco turned and smiled at him.
“Thank you for the support, brother,” he said.
Guglielmo rolled his eyes.
“Ok— definitely not supporting you. This little conspiracy is a DICK move—“
“UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR. THE BASTARD KILLED ME!” Giuliano interrupted.
“It’s the last session! If you couldn’t predict some bullshit occurring than you deserve to be stabbed in the back!” Francesco shot back.
“Excuse me for thinking it would be some kind of boss Sandro cooked up that put me in peril! I certainly didn’t think one of my own party members would—“ he waved his arms around the table, lost for words, “—would do this!”
Lorenzo threw his arm around his brother’s shoulder to comfort him.
“Fear not, my dear Giuliano! You can make a new character for our next session!” he consoled.
Lorenzo may have finally brought himself back under control, but his advice didn't seem to do anything to Giuliano at all. The blond was scowling at no one in particular, simply watching the table.
Sandro cleared his throat.
“If we may continue..?” he trailed off as the party went silent, “There is a conspiracy in the works here. Giuliano- you’re not out yet, Francesco hasn’t rolled for damage,” he said.
Giuliano’s arms were crossed.
“He’s gonna stab me like I’m the new Julius Caesar, just watch,” he grumbled, “17 freaking points... My HP is SHIT!”
Francesco nodded.
“It is, yes, and that was the plan, yeah,” he smirked.
Giuliano gave him the stink eye, but stayed silent. Or well, mostly silent. He was grumbling under his breath about modern day Brutuses, and the party was pretending not to hear him.
The party seemed to be finally winding back down from the shock of the betrayal (honestly, they should have seen it coming- Sandro had been forcing Francesco to do ‘conviction rolls’ for at least fifteen turns) and were waiting to see what the fate of Giuliano would turn out to be.
Francesco grabbed 3 D6’s (oh, the beauty of modifiers and special weapons) and threw them down.
6, 2, and 5. Plus 6 more damage for the surprise attack. 19 total.
Giuliano’s player was officially dead.
Francesco watched in amused fascination as everyone seemed to add up the numbers in their heads. Novella gasped and took a sip of her hot chocolate, and refused to look at Giuliano. Giuliano himself just groaned and threw up his middle finger. Lorenzo was just frowning.
“Damn,” was all he said.
Francesco looked back at Sandro.
“The rest of the conspirators?” he asked. Sandro nodded and rolled some dice behind his screen.
“Jacobo hits, does 11 damage. Salviati misses.” he said.
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at the poorly drawn floor plan of the Duomo where all the character pieces were haphazardly placed.
“Is there anything we can do to stop this?” he asked.
Sandro shrugged.
“I mean, obviously you have no weapons on you. But this is a big commotion- guards and citizens will be coming, and as you are unstabbed, you can still dodge attacks or try to wrestle away a knife,” he said.
Part of Francesco wanted to protest the DM giving out free advice, but a bigger part just wanted to see the natural conclusion of the conspiracy. It was the last session of this particular campaign, and starting fights over technicalities had no benefit now.
Plus it was kind of tasteless, and well. He was also rather mad at his own character.
When the party got together initially— working out backstories, personalities, character dynamics, etc before the campaign— Francesco had wanted to be the loose cannon of the group.
Playing morally complex, not always-aligned-with-the-party characters was fun and kept sessions fresh due to their unpredictability. Plus, it gave him a little more insight into the schemes Sandro was always cooking up.
The campaign itself was titled ‘Us But It’s The Renaissance’, a delightfully creative moniker from the mind of Francesco’s own dear brother Guglielmo.
It had been Lorenzo who suggested that they all play as ‘themselves’. The alignments they had chosen already kind of fit the group. Plus— the Medici bank and the Pazzi bank were both real banks operating in Florence right now. Lorenzo had posited that the game could be spiced up if they played it like they were the infamous banks from the Renaissance, not just their modern offshoots.
Novella had immediately jumped on the idea- she was taking a class on some of the major Italian families from the Renaissance for a couple of college history credits, and had offered to lend a hand in making the game a bit more authentic. Sandro— related to the actual Botticelli— was able to fill in a few more gaps with the things he knew, and the weird stories that had been passed down in his family.
Guglielmo and Francesco had been somewhat hesitant— neither knew a whole lot about the period, and they didn’t want to mess up the game in their ignorance. Lorenzo had shot those fears down in record time.
“It’s DnD!” he had argued, “something stupid is bound to happen at least once a session!”
And now something stupid was indeed happening. Francesco’s player— creatively named Francesco— was stabbing Giuliano’s player repeatedly in the back, and all because said stabber had failed a ‘resist persuasion’ role a few sessions back and thus fucked up his whole arc.
Honestly, things had been going great for Mini Francesco: he had fully integrated himself into the party, he and Novella had gotten married (this was hilarious to the rest of the party), and he was the godfather of Lorenzo’s fake child.
... Only to get cornered by the campaign’s villain, ironically based on Francesco and Guglielmo’s real terrible uncle. Said Villainous Uncle had managed to convince him to betray everything, and all because Francesco’s dice game had been truly terrible that day.
The actual allegiance change had been handled with the utmost secrecy over text with Sandro while everyone else was having their turn, or during snack break, or when arguments over the next course of action got particularly heated. No one had seen the betrayal coming.
And so here he was, low key hoping that someone would put mini him out of his misery, because the poor little guy hadn’t really been having a good time for the last couple of sessions.
“LORENZO! YOU CAN AVOID BACKSTABBERY BY USING MY BODY AS A MEAT SHIELD!”
Francesco’s head shot up. He had gotten so caught up in his musings that he hadn’t realized that the rotation had begun again. He glanced over at Novella, who gave him thumbs down. Francesco just shrugged. Yeah, that was fair.
“I certainly will NOT use you as a meat shield, thank you very much!” Lorenzo said as he rolled his dice.
Nat 20. Lucky bastard.
“I wave down the guards. They restrain the conspirators,” he said.
Sandro nodded and threw a small spool of string at Francesco. He caught it and looked up with a raised brow.
“What do I do with this?” he asked.
“Tie up your hands or something, it’s for the drama!” he replied.
Francesco looked down at the string, back up at the party, and then back down at the string. Was he really going to? Yes. Yes he was. He had stabbed Giuliano, the least he could do was make himself the joke of the night.
Tying one’s own hands with string was not as easy as it sounds, and he had to turn to his brother for help. Guglielmo did it, but he griped about ‘dumbass intrigue gone wrong’ the whole time.
Sandro clapped his hands.
“OK! The conspirators Salviati and Pazzi— Francesco— were caught. Jacobo escapes before the guards can catch him,” Sandro said.
Novella threw her arms up.
“Escaped! The number one instigator of all this shit got away? Surely he’s public enemy number one!” she exclaimed.
Sandro shrugged.
“He’s very sneaky."
Novella just sighed and rolled and dice around in her hand.
Sandro cleared his throat.
“Lorenzo! As head of the family that the conspirators just tried to kill, you get to decide their fates," he rose a brow at him, "So what’ll it be, buddy,” he asked.
Lorenzo frowned and tapped a finger to his chin.
“Hm,” he said intelligently.
“Kill them! Draw and quarter them! Dump them in a pigsty till they drown in shit! Come on brother, they KILLED MY ME!” Giuliano rallied.
“‘Killed my me’ is a terrible sentence,” Francesco couldn’t help but point out.
Giuliano slammed his fist down on the table.
“And he’s sanctimonious about grammar, too! You just gotta kill him Lorenzo! Look at that horrible, smug smile! Those god awfully unfair cheekbones! The man deserves death for his crimes!” he argued.
“If it helps, Lorenzo, I am beyond unrepentant,” Francesco shrugged.
Guglielmo elbowed him.
“Are you trying to die!” he whisper shouted.
Francesco playfully elbowed him back.
“Mimi Me is so far past ‘plausible excuse to not die’ that he’s basically dead already. I’ll at least let him have the dignity of going out like a badass. He won’t grovel for the likes of a Medici,” he said.
Lorenzo snorted.
“Well, if that’s what you want— Sandro,” he said, “can I just order the guards to hang them? Like, do I need to roll for that?” he asked.
Sandro shook his head.
“No, you can just. Say the word,” he said.
Lorenzo nodded.
“Welp. I’m saying the word. Goodbye Salviati and Evil Francesco,” he said.
Sandro nodded and lazily extended his hands.
"The conspirators are hung, and the Florentine people cheer as their corpses sway in the breeze," he said.
Francesco wrinkled his nose. Unfortunate.
Giuliano pumped his fist and laughed maliciously.
“Take that, you backstabbing clownman!” he jeered.
Francesco desperately wanted to cross his arms and give off an air that was ‘too cool for this’, but he couldn’t because his hands were still literally tied.
“I’m no clown,” he said instead.
Giuliano elected to ignore this and instead turned to address the rest of the party.
“We got em!” he exclaimed.
Novella leaned over and grabbed the figure representing Francesco. She then knocked it off the table's ledge to simulate the execution.
Real Francesco watched unimpressed as mini him bounced twice on the floor before going still. A fitting end, but secretly he was a little upset. The whole ‘betray your friends and family’ thing was a lot funnier when one alive to betray them.
Sandro laughed at the dramatic end to Francesco’s character, and Guglielmo sighed as he leaned down to pick up the fallen piece.
“Mini you,” he offered.
Francesco took it from him awkwardly, his hands still tied. Would they be untied now that he was dead? Unclear.
Actually-
“Can we untie my hands now that I’m dead?” he asked.
Giuliano predictably said ‘NO!’ rather loudly, but Sandro was already passing over a pair of kiddie scissors to Guglielmo. His brother then cut the string and Francesco flexed his freed wrists.
“My thanks,” he said as he put mini him back on the table.
Lorenzo cleared his throat.
“Well guys, this has certainly been an interesting end to the campaign,” he said.
Nods all around. Everyone could agree to that. Francesco looked over at Novella who threw a thumbs up over to Sandro.
“Really crazy finisher, man. Nice job,” she said.
Francesco laughed.
“Would you believe that he’s been planning that for weeks?” he asked.
Lorenzo gasped.
“Really!” he said, looking at Sandro in shock.
Sandro nodded and scratched the back of his head.
“Yeah... Do you guys remember when mini Francesco got cornered by mini Jacobo a few sessions back?” he asked.
Francesco folded his hands and leaned on them, watching as everyone tried to remember what was— by all accounts except for his own— a very unimportant moment in a far more eventful campaign.
Novella hummed and squinted at the board, deep in thought.
“There was uh... Jacobo came and talked to me, and then that was used as a precursor for us splitting, right?” she directed to Francesco.
He nodded.
“That was part of it, yeah. What Sandro did very sneakily was text me to roll the d20 a couple times as a joke, and then text him the fifth number it landed on,” he explained.
“And what did it land on?” Guglielmo asked, looking at Sandro in horrified fascination, realizing how much backdoor planning went into this setup.
Francesco grinned, big.
“Two,” he said.
The whole party winced in sympathy. A two was almost always a failed roll.
Sandro smirked.
“A two was definitely low enough to get crazy manipulated by one tiny, horrible uncle,” he said.
Lorenzo made a choked sound.
“So this is really— this has been going on for WEEKS,” he said.
Giuliano rolled his eyes.
“Didn’t we just establish that?” he asked.
Lorenzo shook his head.
“No, like. Consider: Francesco and Sandro have been keeping this whole separate plot a secret from us for WEEKS. Not just in session, but out of session too! We’ve been going out to eat, hanging out— Sandro cat sat for you Novella! And all the while, they’ve been planning this— this murder spree!” he said, eyes getting wilder with every connection.
Francesco tapped his ring on the table.
“It’s hardly a murder spree if we only got Giuliano,” he said.
“HEY!” Giuliano predictably replied.
Lorenzo shook his head and looked back at Sandro.
“I will never be able to campaign with you without intense paranoia ever again,” he said.
Sandro smiled and finger gunned at him.
“Then I did my job right!” he said.
Giuliano rolled his eyes.
“Well. This is a thoroughly disappointing ending. Whoopee. I’m dead,” he said.
“I’m dead too,” Francesco smirked, physically incapable of not egging him on.
Giuliano glared at him, and well. If looks could kill.
Sandro cleared his throat.
“I believe that you’re all forgetting something crucial,” he said.
Everyone glanced around at each other. What had they forgotten? The game was basically over— oh. Oh right.
“Jacobo,” Francesco said.
Guglielmo gasped.
“I forgot about him! We have to go catch him!” he said.
Lorenzo laughed.
“Oh— that’s on ME to do. You’re not going ANYWHERE,” he said.
Guglielmo shot him a confused look.
“Why?”
“You think I don’t see what this is? You’re a Pazzi too! If Francesco could pull the wool over my eyes for weeks, so could you! I am NOT in the business of dying at the end of DnD campaigns, thank you very much,” he accused.
Francesco was honestly kind of flattered. Guglielmo couldn’t lie to save his life, and usually Lorenzo remembered that.
“What am I supposed to do then! You’re talking about beating the final boss fight on your own! Giuliano’s dead and Novella’s on that crazy Venetian side quest!” he said.
Lorenzo pointed to him dramatically.
“House arrest!” he ordered.
“Ok! The guards intercept him, and now Guglielmo’s on house arrest,” Sandro confirmed.
“But Jacobo!” Guglielmo shouted.
“IM GONNA KILL THAT BASTARD,” Giuliano announced.
“Giuliano, you’re dead,” Novella reminded him.
“FUCK,” Giuliano swore.
Francesco just watched as the campaign unraveled. It was truly hilarious. He and Sandro had texted a few nights before that The ConspiracyTM would ruin the game, and they had been right.
Usually, the campaign was remarkably structured for a group with so many big personalities. But now? Chaos.
Lorenzo was definitely going to go out and find Jacobo, but whether or not he won would be up to the dice. At least he was bringing a couple of guards.
Giuliano was scribbling a poor likeness of himself stabbing Francesco, and Novella was occasionally interjecting with critique on his style. Giuliano was not impressed by the criticism, but to his credit he was actually taking her advice and the drawing was... not bad.
Guglielmo was still trying to convince Lorenzo to take him as back up, but Lorenzo was not budging. In fact, Guglielmo’s insistence seemed to actually be doing the opposite of its intended effect, convincing Lorenzo that Guglielmo was DEFINITELY involved in the scheme.
Francesco looked over at Sandro and nodded. Sandro nodded back.
He may have lost the game— something that wasn’t exactly easy in DnD— and he may not have been entirely happy with the arc his character ended up taking, but there was something very fulfilling about knowing that he was the direct instigator in how crazy the session got.
He lost the game, but he and Sandro definitely won the night.
The next campaign was going to be very interesting.
