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Parker was feeling ready; she was feeling prepared. She had snacks laid out, and strategic caches of heavily caffeinated soda. The table was set for the five of them. They were locked in for the evening, with nowhere to go.
Her crew filed in, Eliot, face grim, Nate with two fingers of whiskey, and Sophie was daintily touching the bowls of chips and chocolate platter. Only Alec was looking back at her with a gleam in his eye.
But it didn’t matter.
Her time had come.
“Roll! For! Initiative!” She shouted, and threw dice at the table.
Everyone just stared at her except for Alec, who pulled out his own velvet lined wooden box with dice in it. Parker didn’t know why Alec wanted to use those ones, since his were a boring silver colour and hers were really sparkly, but she was feeling magnanimous so she’d allow it. Alec had gotten her into Dungeons and Dragons when they were between missions one summer and it was surprisingly fun. This was going to be her first time as Dungeon Master though.
Which meant everyone had to play by her rules! She was in charge! She felt a cackle brewing.
Nate sipped his whiskey with a slurp.
Eliot was glaring at Alec. “Why are we playing this children’s game again?”
Parker felt herself swell indignantly, but Sophie jumped in.
“I think this is interesting. Sort of a structured improv exercise,” Sophie said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “The dice give us prompts and we respond to those restrictions.”
“Besides,” Alec said, glaring, “You owe me because of the thing.” Eliot just stared at the purple sparkly dice in front of him like they were threatening him with a knife. The look was somehow dismissive, and also disappointed. But he did owe Alec. They’d agreed already that sex bets could only get sex rewards, otherwise things got really out of hand, but that didn’t mean Alec was above trading in one of his Eliot favours when Parker said she’d be interesting in DM-ing a one-shot. Parker was bad at hoarding hers, she always spent them on getting Eliot to make her fancy desserts.
Nate took another sip of whiskey before he put his glass down. “There’s no point arguing. We all agreed to lay low for the next few days to draw suspicion away from us before we move into the next phase with the mark.”
“That was your plan,” Eliot insisted. “I could have taken him.”
Parker rolled her eyes and saw that Sophie was doing the same thing.
“Take him where?” Alec asked snide. “Somewhere nice--”
“I’ll show you somewhere nice,” Eliot growled, cutting him off.
“Enough!” Parker shouted, slamming the table and causing the dice to jump. Everyone quieted down. Lowering her voice, she asked, “Everyone got their character sheets?”
There was some muttered agreement. Nate was playing a Paladin, Sophie was a Bard, Eliot was playing against type and had chosen a Warlock.
“And I’ve got mine here, Parker,” Alec said, pointing at his sheet. “S’pensnar the Barbarian.”
Eliot was glaring across the table. “Really man, really?” Eliot was practically vibrating. “Is no one else seeing what he’s doing?”
Parker ignored him.
“Your adventure begins, as always, in a tavern.” She’d worked this out. They have a base in a brewpub so this should be an easy thing for them to imagine.
She described the setting, traditional British style pub, but olde timey and so High Fantasy. There were goblins and elves and everything you’d expect. Everyone was settling into it and Parker was feeling good.
“Just then, the doors blow open and in walks a hooded, but clearly rich, figure…”
She got to use her character voice. She’d been practicing.
“Hellooooo heroes, I have an opportunity for you!”
Sophie was staring at her. “Parker, is that your British accent?”
“Who is this Parker, guvnor? I am Sir Bartlington-Smythe the Third.”
“Just go with it, Sophie,” Nate said, waving her away with two fingers.
Sophie cocked her head and muttered into her wine, “We will be talking about this later, that accent…” and the rest was muffled by her glass.
In the end they took the quest. They had to go find the artifact in the middle of the Forest of Foreboding, defended by the Mystical Secret, with a few fun encounters on the way.
***
“You step out of the town. The birds are singing, but not enough to cover your exit, there’s only low cover from various scrub bushes, and you can see the forest a short distance away.” Salient details only. “What do you do?”
Everyone looked at Alec. “Don’t look at me, man, it’s an adventure, do whatever.”
Nate cleared his throat. “I walk towards the forest, do I need to roll something?”
She beamed at him. He was playing along! “No, only for checks.” This was going great. “As soon as you take a step forward, a black dragon swoops down on you from the sky breathing fire!” She slammed her miniature figure down.
“What!” Alec yelped. Parker frowned, that didn’t seem in character for S’pensnar. “Parker, you can’t just kill us all on our first combat.”
She was the DM, she could do whatever she wanted. “Why not?” She demanded. This was going terribly.
That seemed to bring Alec up short. “You just...can’t,” Alec argued. Eliot snorted and tossed back several funyuns into his mouth. “Cause then we’d be all dead and not able to continue the adventure.”
“Ok, ok, fine.” Parker pulled her Monster Manual towards her and flicked through it desperately. Letting the hand of destiny guide her, she let the page fall open.
“Turns out the dragon was just a...firework,” yeah, that made sense, like Gandalf. She let Alec think he was the one who showed her those movies, cause it made him happy but she’d actually snuck into the theatre six times to watch Fellowship. She’d been casing a museum in Brazil, which meant lots of downtime and lots of waiting. “Instead, one Rust Monster and, uh, three Kobolds appear and block your path.” Kobolds were classic, no one could complain about Kobolds.
She didn’t have figurines for the Kobolds, so she just put down some random stuff she had in her pocket. Some neodymium magnets, a thousand dollars in rolled twenties, and a small owl figurine. She left the dragon there representing the Rust Monster.
Alec’s eyes gleamed. “That’s more like it.”
Things were back on track! “Roll for initiative!”
Alec got the highest roll. “I run at the Rust Monster and hit it with my Great Axe. Melee basic attack.”
Eliot was staring at him, brows furrowed. “You just run at it? That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. You’re going to get cleaved in half. Running at it, my ass.”
“What’s your speed?” Parker had to make sure Alec could make it over there in time. Alec told her. It checked out. “Roll for it.”
“Nat 20, baby!” Alec punched his arms in the air.
“You’re fucking with me. That’s what’s happening right now.” Eliot was pulling on his hair.
Alec shrugged. “Don’t hate the player.” Alec smirked at Eliot. “After I stab, I say ‘that’s what you get for sending cut-rate thugs against me.’”
“I don’t sound like that,” Eliot muttered.
Sophie said, “You know, Eliot, if you think about it, Hardison is actually paying you a compliment.”
“I am?” Alec asked, head cocked.
Sophie leaned forward. “When Alec decided to pick out a character that he thought would be impressive, he picked you.” She relaxed, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s sweet really.”
Alec was opening and closing his mouth. Eliot just looked at him speculatively.
Had Parker been so difficult to wrangle when she’d been a player? “Focus, everybody!” Then she relented. “Eliot, you can show Alec what you think of his character choice later.” That could be fun for her too. Eliot got a gleam to his eye and Alec’s eyes widened, going a little glassy. He missed picking up his dice three times before he finally managed it.
The campaign continued.
***
“--and then plunging the dagger into the heart of the darkness, it turns purple before exploding in a shower of stardust. The town is saved. You return as heroes, with free drinks all around.” It was over.
Parker collapsed back in her chair, exhausted. The campaign had been hard-fought and absolutely no one stayed on task, but eventually they made it.
“That was actually kind of fun,” Eliot said, like he was surprising himself.
There were murmurs of agreement from around the table. One by one, they stood up, mumbling thanks, and walked out.
Parker nodded at all of them and gathered up her figurines, her money, her magnets, and all of her scribbled notes. After everything she felt kind of...empty. Like when she’d given the painting to the fence but the money hadn’t come in yet.
She heard Nate clear his throat. His throat clearing was distinctive. It had moods. This one was more of an ‘ahem, I am standing here,’ rather than a ‘for the love of everything that’s holy, please stop’ which was how he usually used it.
Parker looked up.
Nate was smiling at her. “You did good today.” Parker just looked at him curiously. “You know, it’s not easy getting this group to all pull in the same direction. You gave everyone something to do, helped them stay together instead of running off on their own, but let them make their own choices. We need that.” He was looking at her intently, and it seemed like he was saying something important, but she didn’t really get it. He sighed. Then he smiled. “I’m proud of you.”
Parker did know what that meant and she felt warmth bloom up all along her esophagus. Even after all of these years, or maybe because of them, his opinion mattered to her. And it was like the money coming in, hard cash in her hand. Parker felt like she could scale tall buildings, defeat any vault. She’d run a campaign, her first one, and her players had fun, and they beat the mission, and at the end of the day Nate was proud of her.
She’d take it.