I only started playing DnD within the last year. My flatmate hosted a campaign to which myself and a friend of mine were invited. My friend, S, played regularly and promised me I would enjoy it. He was right. I completely adore the open realm available to me, how choices made in their game could completely warp the story and how the ending really was in the hands of the players.
Not content with this one off chance to play, I started to write my own campaigns with the intention of finding a group of people who would be interested in playing as I ran the story.
Eventually, I managed to find several students at my college. A, an environment student who shared my love of Interpretation and storytelling, his girlfriend M a Czech activity student,. D, an environment student from the year below me and R, another environment student and my flatmate. A and M were completely new to the game, whereas D and R had both played extensively before.
R became Aramil a half-elven ranger who lurked in dark woods and spent his time liberating careless travellers of their belongings. He speaks little and tends to act without consulting others, dedicated to forging his own path. Abrasive and cold towards people, Aramil has a deep love of animals and carries a tiny kitten in his pocket.
A became Ser Robin, a half-elven spy from a far-off court who had followed his girlfriend on her travels. A predominantly good fellow, Ser Robin often finds himself at odds with the party’s slightly amoral plans. He goes along with them anyway, his loyalty to his princess taking precedence over his morals.
M became Bohemian Princess Mirabell (don’t ask), a member of tiefling royalty who was on an endless quest for unicorns (really don’t ask). As a tiefling she stands out in any crowd with her dark petrol coloured skin and her large horns that betray her demonic ancestry. Dragging her long-suffering paramour behind her, Mirabell often steps blindly into situations without finesse trusting in her magic to protect her.
D became Serbian, a forest gnome who had left his monastery in disgrace. Often mistaken for a tree stump, he stands at a bare two feet tall, with brown dreadlocks and a permanent scowl. Grumpy and irritable Serbian has taken an instant dislike to Aramil who tends to be deliberately antagonistic.
Now, logically, there is absolutely no reason for such a group to even go to the shops together, let alone adventuring but off they trotted into the first campaign where they faced bandits, castle guards, curses and giant chickens.
And some very hasty storytelling where the party went in a direction I really wasn’t expecting. Sigh.