Death Save: Fail

A crimson die clattered across the wood table, glitter on each of its twenty sides twinkling before it came to rest.

“Eighteen! So, that’s twenty-one to hit,” Daphne said, fingers poised over more dice.

“You hit the bandit. Roll for damage,” I instructed, looking down at my notes.

Bandit: 5 Hit Points

Two more dice fell onto scribbled papers. All three of us groaned. Two white ‘one’s stared up from the red glitter.

Daphne huffed, “Two.”

“Plus,” I nudged.

She glanced down, checking her stats. “Plus three. Five damage.”

Bandit: 0 Hit Points

“That’s enough.” I smirked.

Daphne and Mark cheered. Knocking over the miniature figure of a bandit with a sword raised, Daphne moved her character forward.

Her miniature was a short woman striking a dramatic pose and stabbing forward with swirling onyx robes. It was one of my favorites. I spent hours painting her by hand.

“The last bandit clutches a crushed parchment to his chest. Did you want to share how you finish him off?” I asked.

Daphne shook her head. “You can do it.”

“The rogue, master of shadows and assassinations, slinks forward. With the grace and precision earned through years of scuffles in dark alleys, she skewers the foe from behind. He falls without a sound.”

“Nice.” Mark's eyes glinted with playful greed. “What gear did they have?”

I flipped a few pages ahead in my notebook; my multicolored chicken scratch barely legible. “They had two handaxes, two shortswords, the leather armor they were wearing, a small silk purse, and that mysterious parchment.”

Mark added to the list on the back of his character sheet and smiled. “Oooo! What’s in the purse?”

“Forty gold and a handful of common gems.”

“Boom! So, wanna split it fifty-fifty?” Mark asked Daphne, already erasing numbers from his paper.

“I let you have my only healing potion. That gold is mine,” Daphne argued.

“We’re partners. Share and share alike.”

While they haggled over the gold, I waited for their attention to turn to the parchment. I looked down and flipped a page, eager to share the cryptic message they'd find within.

“Let’s head back to the guild,” Mark announced.

“But–”

“We'll sell the shitty weapons and maybe go shopping.” Daphne did a little dance in her seat, adding forty to her stash of gold.

“Don’t you want to look at the parchment the bandit held close as he died?” I asked.

Mark frowned, eyes growing hard. “Jordan.” He dragged out my name like a warning.

“What?” Something deep in my stomach went cold.

“We know what–”

Daphne elbowed Mark and talked over him, “We’ll look once we’re back at the guild. You said these woods aren’t safe, right?”

I paused but nodded. “Sure. You make your way back to town, retracing your footsteps along the path that led into this ambush. When you arrive, night has fallen. The usually bustling guild is quiet, only a few lanterns lit outside of the main hall.”

“Is that barbarian awake?” Mark asked.

I chewed on my lip. It was fine. They were the players. They got to decide what they wanted to do. It was my job as Dungeon Master to set the stage. “He’s waiting for you in the combat drill room.”

“Sweet. My fighter goes to train with him.”

“If you're gonna do that, my rogue's gonna hang out and count her money. Jordan, can I have the book with the cool item lists?” Daphne requested, hand outstretched.

I pulled the book from the shelf behind me and handed it to her. “Are you guys sure you just want–”

“Can I make some skill rolls during training like we did before?” Dice already rattled in Mark’s hand.

I sighed and nodded.

***

I clenched my teeth and tapped my phone. 11:03 PM. Three hours into the session and we had only fought those bandits. I had encounters, mysteries, and world-ending conflicts planned while these heroes did nothing.

Heat bubbled up in my chest as I watched Daphne and Mark.

Daphne sat, feet up on a chair, paging through charts of magical items to buy. Mark was on round seven with the barbarian. Were they really content to just hang out at the guild?

My fingers picked at the edge of my notebook bursting with lore, quests, and monsters.

They might be content. I wasn’t.

“There’s a knock at your door,” I said.

The players paused their shopping and training, tension forming around their mouths. Daphne answered, “Who is it?”

I narrated, “The door opens and a familiar wizard walks in, dressed in his usual robes of deep turquoise. ‘Sorry to bug you, but did you find out anything about the Dark Lord’s plots?’”

A look passed between Mark and Daphne, too pointed to be accidental.

My stomach rattled like the dice on the table.

“Here, we found this,” Daphne said and mimed handing the parchment over to me.

I hesitated. “Aren’t you going to look at it?”

“Uh… well. As a wizard, you know more about magic–”

“I can’t,” Mark snapped. “I just… Let’s pause the game for a minute. I need to get some shit off my chest.”

I froze, my body stiff like my miniatures. “Oh. Okay.”

“I'm sick of having to tiptoe around this. You never listen to us, Jordan.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” I gripped my knee to keep my hand from shaking.

“Well… like right now. I told you what I want to do but you keep shoving us into your story.”

“I mean, the parchment is only–”

“I don’t want to look at your damn parchment,” Mark snapped.

“Mark,” Daphne warned, then turned to me. “We just aren’t really interested in your story.”

My chest squeezed. “We?”

Mark and Daphne exchanged that look again. They held a conversation in it, understanding and frustration shared between them.

My vision narrowed, everything coming into focus. Something shifted.

Fighter: 20 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard: 13 Hit Points

“It’s not just the story. There is this tone you use,” Mark said.

The fighter stepped away from his training buddy, stabbing swift and sudden into the wizard's leg.

2 damage.

Fighter: 20 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard: 11 Hit Points

“A tone?” The dice inside me shook violently.

“Like a frustrated parent,” Mark replied.

The fighter spins, sword swinging toward the wizard's shoulder.

“Well, even tonight, I was just… I have to work early tomorrow and I wanted to get the action moving,” I explained. It was hard to catch my breath.

Magic flares from the wizard's hand, a veil of glowing, blue energy materializing and blocking the blade.

Miss. No damage.

Fighter: 20 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard: 11 Hit Points

“What if I don’t want the action to get moving?” Mark crossed his arms.

“This is supposed to be fun for all of us, not just you.” My words came out sharper than I wanted, but I didn’t retract them.

With a quick, bitter incantation, the wizard launches a blast of red-hot flame. It slams into the fighter, knocking him back a step.

Critical hit. 3 damage.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard: 11 Hit Points

“There's that tone,” Mark hissed.

“Guys,” Daphne scolded. “Maybe someone else should be Dungeon Master for a while.” Her suggestion cut me to the bone.

A dagger, slick with green liquid, slams into the wizard's stomach.

Critical hit. 3 damage plus poisoned status.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard (Poisoned): 8 Hit Points

“But I told you I have the whole story planned.” My words sounded hollow. My voice felt far away.

“I understand that, but this isn't really what I was hoping for,” Daphne said softly.

A sharp pain. The rogue removes the dagger from the wizard’s belly, but poison seeps into his veins.

1 poison damage.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard (Poisoned): 7 Hit Points

“What do you mean?” I grasped the table, desperate to hold onto something.

“Well, we thought this would be different,” Mark said.

The fighter's blade cuts through the wizard's robes, carving a chunk of flesh from his shoulder.

Critical hit. 3 damage.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard (Poisoned): 4 Hit Points

My heart hammered and my vision narrowed.

“I… I didn't…” I stammered, unprepared for this. All I wanted was to roll dice and share a grand adventure with my friends.

Was this my fault?

Pain pulses through the wizard with every heartbeat.

1 poison damage.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard (Poisoned): 3 Hit Points

I was the Dungeon Master, the arbiter of fate in my imaginary realms, the unspoken leader of our little group, but I was still just Jordan. One of three friends hanging out and fighting dragons.

Then I saw it clearly: a divide between us like a line on one of my maps.

I felt a flash of bitterness. “We discussed our expectations before starting and you never brought up–”

The wizard chants another incantation. Yellow, acrid energy flies from his hand.

“But aren't we all creating this story together? I want my character to have some agency. Dammit,” Mark barked. “Or else, what's the point?”

The fighter brings up his shield, the spell crashing harmlessly against it.

Miss. No damage.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard (Poisoned): 3 Hit Points

My shoulders stiffened; old defense mechanisms slammed into place.

The room was too small. Too hot.

The wizard staggers on his feet, his body going numb.

1 poison damage.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard (Poisoned): 2 Hit Point

I fought the urge to flee. “Wait. Let’s slow down for a minute. I… I told you guys I don't deal well with… with c-conflict.”

“Maybe you should grow a thicker skin,” Daphne said.

The rogue’s dagger plunges deep into the wizard's heart. Pain erupts. His body seizes, crashing to the ground in a heap of velvet robes.

Critical hit. 3 damage.

Fighter: 17 Hit Points

Rogue: 16 Hit Points

Wizard: 0 Hit Points

My mind went blank.

“Maybe you guys are right. I can… can do stuff different,” I heard myself say.

Mark grinned, his anger gone in an instant. Daphne leaned back in her chair and sighed. They stared, expecting something.

Whatever it was, I couldn’t do it tonight. “Well, I-I'm getting a migraine. Let’s call it here.”

“Are you sure?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, my head’s pounding.”

“Do you want some aspirin?” Mark offered.

“No, I’m good.” I smile, a mask. I need them out of my dining room. Out of my house.

Blood flows freely from the wizard.

Wizard: 0 Hit Points

First Death Save: Fail

“Should we figure out a date for the next game?” Daphne asked. “I had a lot of fun and look, I really do think you’re a great DM.”

I nearly scoffed. Was I the only one truly seeing this moment? The only one hurting? “We’ll figure it out later,” I lied.

The wizard’s heart stills.

Wizard: 0 Hit Points

Second Death Save: Fail

“Thanks for coming,” I said through my teeth.

“Can’t wait for the changes next session.” Mark smiled wide as he left.

Daphne paused in my doorway. “You sure you’re okay?”

My heart throbbed. Her words from a few minutes before rang in my head, Maybe you should grow a thicker skin.

“I’m fine. Night.” I closed the door, squeezing the knob until my knuckle was white. My head pounded. At least I didn’t lie about that.

I exhaled. Something I couldn't name left me, an emptiness filling that space.

One final breath escapes the wizard’s mouth.

Wizard: 0 Hit Points

Final Death Save: Fail

Friendship: 0 Hit Points