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The only rule of Dungeons and Dragons that Steve understands is the unwritten one: everybody but the DM brings snacks or drinks. They had all agreed to give Eddie’s suggestion of D&D-session-as-group-therapy a try before they all move in together, so he’s picking his way up the staircase that runs alongside the small commercial building that houses Eddie’s apartment, his carpentry business, and a small bakery, juggling two pizza boxes so he can knock on the door.
“There you are!” Jonathan opens the door; everyone else is already packed around Eddie’s tiny table, which is strewn with sheets of paper covered with numbers, dozens of dice, a plate of cookies, and a big bag of chips. “I brought beer; you want one?”
“Please,” Steve replies, grateful for a question he knows how to answer to start things off. His stomach rumbles at the smell of the pizza and he realizes he hasn't eaten since an early breakfast. He grabs a cheap paper plate from the stack, two slices, and a handful of chips to go with the beer. Not a lot of ceremony here, he notices approvingly, as the others do the same, and he starts to settle in.
“Greetings, traveler!” Eddie is in fine form already, torn denim vest back on for old times’ sake. “Welcome and be seated. Let’s hit the ground rules before we dive in: no fear, no judgment. If you gotta stop us, throw up an ‘X’” Eddie taps his crossed wrists together in front of his face. “We’re dealing with some heavy shit in here but we’re going to get through it together.” He looks from face to face. “Any other additions? Anything we want to make sure we cover? Or not cover?”
No fear, no judgment. “I really don’t want to see any kids put in danger,” Steve says. “I…I had enough of that shit in the real world.”
“Right on,” Eddie nods, and makes a little note. Nobody says anything or makes fun of him. Not that he thought they would but…it’s nice to be proven right, sometimes. Robin nudges him reassuringly from the next chair over.
“I want to be able to play whatever character, regardless of gender, and not have it be weird,” Robin says, and Eddie gives her a silent fist bump in response.
“Next, have any of you played before?” Steve is surprised to see Nancy’s hand go up, but nobody else’s. “Got ourselves a ringer!” He winks at Nancy. “The basic premise is this: I’m the Dungeon Master, or DM - your humble guide to the world of magic and mayhem. I set a scene, and your characters act. If we need to, we roll dice to find out what happens next. Repeat, until our story ends - one way or another.” That crooked, half-menacing grin spreads across Eddie’s face again. “I took the liberty of drawing up a few character sheets to save a little time, so pick one that sounds interesting.” With that, he sat back and gestured for them to inspect his handiwork.
“God, which of these is the easiest?” Steve mutters. Eddie slides him a sheet of paper that says Fighter at the top. Good with weapons. Takes a punch. The Harrington of the group. (No offense, Steve.) says Eddie’s explanatory note at the top. “Ouch,” Steve mimes an injury as the others pass the other eight sheets around.
Nancy takes the one marked Bard and reads Eddie’s note: “'Casts spells with music. Jack of all trades. Flirting with everything is just a stereotype,'” but Steve notices Nancy’s eyes flicking over to everyone else’s at the table. Well, he thinks.
The sheet labeled Ranger ends up in Jonathan’s hands. “‘Lonely wanderer at home in nature. Good in a fight. Expert tracker.’ Yeah, okay,” he mutters.
That just leaves Robin, who flips back and forth between two before settling on the Cleric. “‘Follows some higher power. Protects their allies from the forces of evil.’ What? Just because I’m not religious doesn’t mean I can’t give this a try.”
“That’s the fucking spirit,” Eddie says with a devilish grin. “Shall we begin?”