Gaming: D&D Pt. 01

- "That's terrible!" she said. I thought she was going to cry. "How could they treat you like that?"

- "Yeah. Well, now you know why I like you. You're genuine. You don't care how popular I am, or what team I'm on."

She blushed a bit, but then she lifted her head, and smiled. "Thank you, Ian."

That brought me up short. It was just a feeling, but it was an uncomfortable one. I liked Parvani - a lot - but I didn't want her to get any ... romantic notions. She was chunky, with bad teeth and ugly glasses. I didn't want to lead her on, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship, either.

I walked her home - it was only two blocks out of my way.

- "Umm ... will you come in for tea?" she asked.

- "Uh - sure." I had no idea what that meant, but it would have been rude to refuse.

Tea meant .. tea. Parvani put the kettle on, while I glanced around her house. I had a brief moment of culture shock: their house smelled of cooking, of foods that were unfamiliar to me.

Her folks had money - that much was obvious. The decor and furnishings were pretty upscale. But the kettle Parvani put on the stove looked like it had survived the siege of Tobruk. It was battered and beat-up.

She saw my face.

- "We use it a lot." she said.

Her mother came in to say hello. I saw immediately where Parvani got her looks - the chunkiness and the bad teeth. But she was very polite, and I was on my best behaviour.

Parvani served me a cup of tea, and put out a plate of biscuits and little cakes. It was all very nice.

***

I read the D&D Player's Guide. I didn't understand it all; there were obviously mysteries that I wasn't going to master immediately, like experience points (XP), or spell-casting. But I did pick up enough ... and ideas began to form in my head.

The first person I called was Nate. He accepted my invitation, and came over. He was impressed by my book collection, if not by my record albums. He was curious, though, to know why I had called him.

- "I want to play D&D." I said. I showed him the Player's Guide.

We worked out a few details, and discussed what type of game we wanted to play. We both agreed that I should take a shot at DMing. The DM, or Dungeon Master, is the Master of Ceremonies, Director, and Chief Storyteller. He (or she) creates the setting, the villains and NPCs (non-player characters).

The players are somewhat like actors - role-players - in an improv experiment. They're pretty much free to say and do whatever they like.

I called Burnsie, who was intrigued enough to come over. I also invited my cousin Pete, who was a bit bookish. Nate brought a guy named Nick, who lived down the street from him. He had also invited a guy named Mischa that he knew from school.

Mischa freaked me out. He was a scrawny little guy with poor hygiene.

- "I want to play a half-orc werewolf berserker ninja." was the first thing he said to me.

- "Uhh ... sure. Nice to meet you." I said.

Neither Pete nor Nick had ever played before. I explained as briefly as I could. Mischa chipped in with extra details that were completely unnecessary, and not very helpful.

The guys rolled up characters. Burnsie was a thief, while Nate chose a wizard. Pete went for a fighter, and Nick wanted to be a ranger. Mischa got his berserk ninja, even though I had no idea what that involved. It wasn't in my book.

- "It's in the Advanced DM's Guide." he told me.

- "We don't have a healer." said Nate.

Nobody wanted to switch.

- "I'll be the healer." I said. There was no rule that the DM, or GM, couldn't also play. I rolled up a character, and made him a cleric. Problem solved.

Starting the game was easy. The players accepted the premise, and nobody asked 'Why are we doing this?'

But it was all downhill from there.

My cousin Pete just wasn't interested. His obvious boredom affected the rest of us.

Nick was just too shy. He barely said a word.

Burnsie was just too stoned. He wasn't completely incoherent, but it was close.

Mischa was just too weird. He insisted that if he bit his shield, it gave him a 10% bonus to go berserk.

And Nate just wasn't a leader type. He didn't take charge, and show the way.

We broke off the game early. Burnsie passed out on my couch, while Nate hung around to de-brief. We analyzed what we had done - and not done - trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

- "Would it have been better with different players?" I asked. "Speaking of which: where did you find Mischa?"

- "I know." he said. "He's a bit hard to take, isn't he? Sorry - I won't invite him again."

- "It wasn't all his fault." I said. "I wasn't very good as DM."

- "Well, none of us really know the rules." said Nate. "But your story idea was good."

I had borrowed from the movie 'Taras Bulba', and had one of our characters fall in love with the daughter of the enemy. But it wasn't enough to motivate Pete, and Nick hadn't said anything either way.

- "Do we try again?"

- "Of course we do." he said.

We set up another game.

I would have invited Burnsie again, out of loyalty. But he had made a terrible life choice; when a few of his friends gave him some cash to buy weed for them, he agreed. Unfortunately, when he bought a sizeable quantity from his regular dealer, he was arrested. The amount he was carrying was too much for simple possession. Burnsie was charged with trafficking.

He was convicted, and sentenced to three years in prison. I met with his lawyer, once, to determine whether I would make a good character witness. But I wasn't called to testify.

Nate hosted the next game. We didn't invite Pete. We did call Nick, but he wasn't able to join us. So it was just Nate and me, with two new players that he had invited. All he would tell me was that they were close friends of his.

Deborah was a slender, dark-haired girl. Her friend Danny was much taller, a big redhead with blue eyes.

I will admit that I wasn't blown away by either girl, when I first met them. For one thing, I was too busy explaining the game, and the rules (so far as Nate and I understood them). For another, I think the two girls were a bit unsure of what was going to happen. They sat back, and let Nate lead them through it.

The scenario I had set up was a re-interpretation of the Romeo and Juliet story. The party (all of us) agreed to help our friend Omero 'rescue' his girlfriend Tiluje. We ended up smack in the middle of a Montague-Capulet feud.

Danny and Deborah seemed to like the story, and were willing to risk life and limb to help our friend Omero. They didn't think much of Tiluje.

After the game, when everyone else had gone, I sat down with Nate to de-brief.

- "How was it?" I asked.

- "You were a bit nervous, at first." he said. Nate was honest to a fault. "But the story was good. The girls seemed to like it. I'll find out more from them later."

- "I don't know about the big fight. I had a hard time keeping track of everybody's hit points, and who was where."

- "Use another paper for the battles. I can draw a simple diagram in pencil." said Nate.

"Oh - one more thing." he added. "Don't call Deborah 'Debbie', or 'Deb'. She doesn't like that. Just Deborah. I should have told you beforehand. And Danny is short for 'Danielle', but -"

- "Don't call her that. No problem." I said. "How long have you known them?"

- "Since Grade 9. They're my best friends."

We also talked about the music he had put on while we gamed.

- "Pink Floyd, right?" I guessed.

- "Yeah. Wish You Were Here." he said. I didn't know the name of the album, but I recognized the album cover. Mostly, I liked hard rock: Led Zeppelin, The Who, Aerosmith and Kiss. Nate was more into art rock, and progressive stuff.

- "What was the other music you played?" I asked him.

He showed me the album covers. Selling England By the Pound, by Genesis, and Close to the Edge by Yes. "Did you like them?"

- "Uh ... sure." I said. Truth be told, I hadn't really been listening. The music had just been background noise. It wasn't unpleasant, though.

We both agreed that death was preferable to disco. Other than that, we each tried to persuade the other guy of the merits of our favourite bands. We talked for hours, about music, and books, and gaming.

Before my injury, I wouldn't have given a guy like Nate the time of day. Now, though, I was quickly coming to the conclusion that he was one of the most interesting people I knew.

***

When school started up again, I found out that Parvani was in two of my classes: Calculus, and English.

I also discovered that her parents had finally sent her to an orthodontist. She had braces. They were pretty big, and ... pretty shiny.

She was depressed. I tried to console her.

- "Hey - it's not so bad. It won't be for long."

- "Two years! Maybe even three!" she said.

- "Better now than when you're 25. Or 35." I suggested.

- "I know you're just trying to cheer me up." she said. "Thank you, Ian."

***

Danny and Deborah liked D&D - enough to play a second time, at least. When we got together at Nate's place in September, I had to quickly revise my first impression of both girls.

Deborah was quite pretty. She had long black hair, which ended in loosely curled ringlets. She was short, and slender, but her face was simply lovely. She had full lips, and a tiny, exquisitely-shaped nose.

Fittingly enough, she played an elven spellcaster. She called herself Mirowen. If our little party of four had a leader, it was her.

Danny was a big, tall girl. It would be a bit of a stretch to call her pretty, but her face wasn't ugly - not by any stretch of the imagination. She had bright red hair, and grey-blue eyes.

But she wore more form-fitting clothing this time around, which revealed that Danny was very well-endowed. Breasty. Big. Hard not to look at. Big. She had large hips, too. The overall effect was very eye-catching.

Danny played a ranger, who wielded a bow. She named her character Sylven LongStepper - which I thought was pretty creative. She smiled frequently, and was a constant source of good humour.

Nate was a barbarian named Fafhrd (I had lent him the Leiber books). The girls nicknamed him 'Meatshield', since his job was to get out front and occupy our enemies while Danny and Deborah did damage with bow and spell.

As you might have guessed, I was the cleric / healer. I named him Caduceus. Deborah surprised me; she knew what it was, and immediately sketched one on a piece of paper, so that Nate and Danny could see.

They nicknamed me Deuce - and it stuck.

I kept our second adventure simple. There was an isolated village, threatened by a horde of goblins, which begged for our aid. I just borrowed the idea from The Magnificent Seven (or The Seven Samurai, if you prefer, though I hadn't seen the Kurosawa film yet).

It was a tremendous success. Everybody enjoyed it. I still had a million things to learn, but I started to believe that I could be a decent DM.

- "Ian - that was awesome." said Nate, once the girls had gone.

- "You think they liked it?"

- "Are you serious? They loved it! I loved it. You made us feel like heroes."

We de-constructed and de-briefed for another couple of hours. Nate and I were becoming quite close. He lived in a big house with his father, who travelled and left him on his own a lot. His mother had left them when he was twelve, and his older brother had moved out just last year.

He told me about his mother, but didn't delve into the details. "I only know what my Dad told us. I've never heard her side of the story."

We got together with the girls again in October. They brought a cake, because it was Nate's 18th birthday.

- "I didn't even know." I said.

- "How could you?" said Nate. "I never told you."

We played twice in November, and then again in December. To my complete surprise, Danny and Deborah brought another cake.

- "Happy birthday, Ian!" they cheered.

- "Happy 18th, man." said Nate. He had bought me a present. It was a record album: Trick of the Tail, by Genesis. "The only decent album they made after Gabriel left." he said.

I was very touched by their thoughtfulness. To put it into perspective, consider this: my own father forgot my birthday.

My mother lost her fight with cancer when I was 14. Four years later, my father was finally beginning to come to terms with it. He had only recently begun seeing a nice divorced woman named Jill. I didn't object at all - I just wanted him to be happy. But he worked long hours, and the home front was not his prime concern.

My sister Cherie had just turned 14. She gave me a nice card and an album - The Who's Live at Leeds. She also tried to apologize for Dad's oversight.

- "It's ok, sweetie." I told her. "I understand."

I was even more surprised, though, when Parvani asked me to walk home with her after school. We almost always went to school together. But after class, she had debating club, while I had joined the school play and the fund-raising committee.

- "What's up?" I asked her.

It was only when we reached her house that I got an answer. In addition to tea and cake, Parvani had a present for me.

- "Happy Birthday, Ian." she said. Then she kissed me on the cheek.

I have to admit - I choked up a little. It can be quite emotional, to find out who really cares about you.

Parvani also gave me a book: The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula K LeGuin.

- "I think you'll like it." she said.

I did.

***

Over the Christmas holidays, my social life began to change. Nate and I had been spending time together even when we weren't gaming, but now Danny and Deborah began to invite me when they went out in the evening.

They took me to a party. We went to the midnight showing of Casablanca at the repertory cinema. We also went skating.

- "You know how to skate!" said Deborah, surprised. She linked her arm through mine. "Hidden talents?"

- "Ian used to play hockey. And soccer." said Nate. "He's a jock."

- "That explains the nice legs." said Danny.

I blushed, which made her laugh.

But it was a turning point in our relationship. Up to that point, Danny and Deborah had seen me as a harmless nerd - like a Mischa, but with better hygiene and a few social skills.

You see, Deborah was a budding poet. She also had a beautiful singing voice. Danny was a painter. She did abstracts, mostly. The others assured me that she was really quite good. She also played the guitar. And Nate could draw. My God, could he draw.

For Christmas, he gave each one of us a pencil drawing of our D&D characters. They weren't caricatures, but rather idealized versions of how he pictured Mirowen, Sylven LongStepper, and Deuce.

My jaw must have dropped. "Nate - these are really good."

- "We keep telling him the same thing." said Danny.

They were so good, we all made photocopies so that each of us could have all three drawings.

- "My only complaint is that you didn't draw Fafhrd." I said.

- "He's too modest." said Deborah.

- "Doesn't like to draw attention to himself." added Danny.

We all pestered him to draw his own character. Three weeks later, he presented us with a new drawing. It was all four of our characters, in action poses, as if we were fighting unseen enemies. Fafhrd was out front, grimacing as he gripped his two-handed sword.

Mirowen was behind, her arms raised as she wove an incantation. Sylven was to the other side, with an arrow nocked in her bow. Deuce was at the back, clutching his staff.

- "Wow!" was our unanimous reaction.

It was an amazing drawing. If I wanted to pick nits, I could have pointed out that Fafhrd should have been stockier, more solidly-built. Also, Nate's composition wasn't ideal: he hadn't left himself enough room at the top of the page, so that my character had to be a little smaller than the others. It made it seem as if Deuce was further back, or only rushing up to join them, instead of already being there.

There were a few other flaws, but they were very minor. The faces were exceptional, and the bodies vibrated with life - they just seemed so real.

Nate, Danny, and Deborah were all talented. Multi-talented. Whereas I could tie my shoes and chew my food all by myself.

Seriously, though ... up to that point, the girls had seen me as a nice nerd, a guy whose sole talent consisted of adapting movie and book plots to make D&D adventures.

But they began to look at me differently when they found out that I had been an athlete before my injury. Check that - I still was athletic. Just with a bad knee.

I don't think that Danny and Deborah liked jocks very much; they were definitely artsie-fartsies. But a reformed, ex-jock was a different matter, and somehow acceptable.

Maybe Nate's drawings had something to do with it. There was no question that they were a trio, and that I was a much later addition. But the four of us were becoming a team, like our game characters would have been, if they had really existed.

The girls were beginning to treat me a little differently. Like a friend ... and as if our friendship wasn't entirely connected to Nate.

That was about the time I had my first dream.

The First Dream

The night after our battle with the orcs, we were still camped in the holy grove. They had lain in wait, and then launched their ambush when we were washing in the stream.

Fafhrd scrambled for his sword, and Sylven snatched up her bow, but these orcs knew which of us was most dangerous: three of their cruel arrows struck Mirowen, almost at once. She gave a piercing cry, and collapsed on the grass.

I ran to her aid. Mirowen was dying. My first healing spell could only stabilize her. She remained unconscious.

Fafhrd engaged four of the orcs, and Sylven plied her bow to great effect. But two more orcs came to finish off our elven sorceress. I stood over her, with only my staff as a weapon.

Their simple stratagem was obvious enough: the first orc sought to distract me, while his companion bent over to slash at Mirowen. With all of my strength, I cracked his skull.

The first orc stabbed at me, and his crude sword scraped along my ribs. I gasped with the pain, but reversed my staff, and shattered his knee. When he fell, I delivered the coup de grace.

Fafhrd and Sylven had put the remaining orcs to flight. But Fafhrd was in dire need of my assistance. I cast two healing spells on him, and my last spell on Mirowen.

- "What about you?" asked Sylven.

- "I'll be fine until tomorrow."

The next day, I healed Mirowen again, and then, myself. She was awake by that point, and watched me with those beautiful, unreadable elven eyes.

- "Thank you." she said, softly.

- "I would do the same for any member of our group." I said. It was simple truth.

- "I was dying, was I not?" she said.

I could not lie. "Yes."

- "Then you saved my life."

There was no proper answer to that. I simply bowed my head.

Mirowen rose swiftly, gracefully, to her feet.

- "You shouldn't exert yourself." I said.

- "Nonsense." she said. "I feel hale, and whole - as you well know. Your magic has re-invigorated me. It is you who must be fatigued."

Mirowen took my hand.

- "Come." she said.

She led me back to the stream.

Then she surprised me utterly. Our elven wizard took hold of her robe of green and gold, and in one fluid movement, lifted it over her head.