What It’s Actually Like to Sit Down at a D&D Table
The first thing you notice is the smell.
Not the smell of the cave itself. That comes later.
At the table, it is pizza and cardboard and the faint sweetness of the soda Gabriel has been drinking for the last hour. There are character sheets spread between dice towers and pencils. Someone has left a bag of chips open. A battle mat covers most of the table, crowded with little figures that represent people who, five minutes ago, existed only on paper.
Then Corbin speaks.
“The passage slopes downward.”
And suddenly you're somewhere else.
The air in the cave is cold enough that every breath feels damp against the back of your throat.
Water drips somewhere in the darkness.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound echoes strangely through the stone, impossible to place. The walls are slick with moisture, and when Gabriel's torch passes close to them, the light catches tiny beads of water that glitter like glass.
The floor is worse.
Bones lie everywhere.
Some are old enough to have been bleached white. Others are stained brown and yellow. A rib cage has collapsed beneath someone's boot, and the brittle bones snap with a noise that seems impossibly loud in the silence.
Charlotte wrinkles her nose.
“Something smells awful.”
Corbin nods.
“Rot. And something else.”
“Something else?”
“Wet fur.”
The four adventurers stop.
Parker's warlock looks toward the darkness ahead.
Gabriel's paladin tightens his grip on his sword.
Nathaniel's cleric raises his holy symbol.
Charlotte's bard whispers, “Well. That's encouraging.”
They have been following three gnolls for most of the day.
The creatures have been preying on travelers along the Salt Road, but there is something unusual about their victims.
They haven't been taking everyone.
Only elves.
And now the trail has led into this cave.
Back at the table, Parker leans forward.
“I want to look for tracks.”
Corbin doesn't answer immediately. He looks at Parker's character sheet, then at the map.
“What are you looking for?”
“Where they came from. Where they went. How many there are.”
“That'll be Survival.”
Parker picks up a d20.
This is one of the moments that can look almost trivial from outside the game.
A twenty-sided piece of plastic rolls across a table.
But at the table, everyone watches it.
Because the number isn't just a number.
It is what happens next.
The die bounces once.
Twice.
Stops.
“Fourteen.”
Parker checks his sheet.
“Plus two. Sixteen.”
Corbin looks down at his notes.
“You find three distinct sets of tracks. Gnoll. One is heavier than the others. They're coming and going through the same passage.”
Parker nods.
“Recent?”
“Very.”
Charlotte looks at the map.
“How recent?”
Corbin smiles.
“Fresh enough that you can see where one of them stepped in mud.”
Gabriel sits back.
“Then we're close.”
Charlotte looks at him.
“Please don't say anything heroic.”
Gabriel considers this.
“I make no promises.”
They move deeper.
The cave narrows until their shoulders nearly brush the walls.
The torchlight makes the shadows breathe.
Every few steps, the darkness beyond the flame seems to move.
Then it doesn't.
The party passes a shallow pool.
The water is perfectly still.
Too still.
Nathaniel kneels beside it.
“Is it clean?”
Corbin looks at him.
“Make a Nature check.”
The cleric rolls.
“Eleven.”
“You can't tell.”
Nathaniel frowns.
“Can I taste it?”
The entire table goes silent.
Corbin stares at him.
“You can.”
Nathaniel looks at his character sheet.
“Never mind.”
The table erupts.
And then, just like that, everyone is back in the cave.
Charlotte notices the scratches first.
They're low on the wall.
Long, thin marks gouged into the damp stone.
She crouches beside them.
“What made those?”
Corbin looks at her.
“Make a Perception check.”
The d20 rolls.
Charlotte watches it stop.
“Natural one.”
Parker immediately starts laughing.
“Oh, no.”
Corbin leans back in his chair.
“You are absolutely certain you know what made those scratches.”
Charlotte looks suspicious.
“What did I decide?”
Corbin glances at the wall.
“A very large bird.”
Charlotte stares at him.
“In a cave?”
“A very large bird.”
“Sure.”
She stands.
“Everyone, stay alert for the cave bird.”
Parker's warlock gives her a look.
“That's not a thing.”
Charlotte gestures toward the scratches.
“I have evidence.”
Nobody notices the strands of silk stretched high above them.
Not yet.
The passage opens without warning.
The ceiling rises.
The darkness expands.
The torchlight reaches across a broad chamber where the floor is littered with broken bones.
And three shapes stand among them.
Gnolls.
Tall, lean, and filthy, with matted fur and long limbs that look almost too thin to support their bodies. One carries a shield made from hide stretched over wood. Another holds a spear. The third is crouched beside a pile of bones, its long ears twitching as it searches through the remains.
The smell hits the party a second later.
Rot.
Blood.
Wet fur.
And something sour underneath it all.
Something that makes the back of the throat tighten.
The gnolls haven't seen them.
Not yet.
Corbin looks around the table.
“What do you do?”
Gabriel answers immediately.
“I step into the room.”
Charlotte closes her eyes.
“Of course you do.”
“I am a Paladin.”
“You are a level-one Paladin.”
“Every Paladin was level one once.”
Parker quietly says, “Some of them remained level one.”
Gabriel points at him.
“Betrayal.”
Corbin grins.
“Roll initiative.”
Dice scatter across the table.
The atmosphere changes instantly.
A moment ago, everyone was joking.
Now they're watching the numbers.
Who goes first?
Who gets caught out?
Who gets hurt?
The gnoll moves first.
It sees Gabriel.
Its lips pull back.
Yellow teeth emerge from beneath its muzzle.
Then it charges.
Claws dig into the stone as it accelerates. Its feet slap through the shallow water pooled on the floor, sending cold droplets across Gabriel's boots.
The spear comes around in a savage horizontal arc.
Gabriel barely gets his shield up.
The impact is tremendous.
Wood cracks.
The force drives him backward.
His boots scrape across wet stone.
Corbin rolls behind the screen.
“Twenty-one.”
Gabriel looks at his character sheet.
“That hits.”
The spear punches through the edge of his shield and catches him beneath the arm.
Pain flashes through him.
“Seven damage.”
At the table, Gabriel's grin disappears.
He looks at his ten hit points.
“That's... not ideal.”
Charlotte laughs.
“You're the Paladin.”
“I have discovered that being a Paladin does not make me immune to spears.”
And that's another thing about D&D.
For a moment, the joke disappears.
Everyone at the table understands that Gabriel's character is actually in danger.
Not permanently.
Not necessarily.
But enough.
Gabriel's Paladin tears the spear away.
Blood runs down his arm.
The gnoll lunges again.
Gabriel twists aside.
The spearhead scrapes across his breastplate with a shriek of metal.
He feels the vibration all the way through his chest.
He swings.
The sword catches the gnoll across the ribs.
The blade bites through fur.
The creature screams.
Gabriel rolls damage.
“Eight.”
Corbin nods.
“Your sword opens its side. It staggers backward, one hand pressed against the wound. Blood runs between its fingers.”
Gabriel leans forward.
“I step toward it.”
The gnoll bares its teeth.
Gabriel raises his sword.
“I tell it, ‘You picked the wrong travelers.’”
Charlotte looks at him.
“That's actually pretty good.”
Gabriel smiles.
“I know.”
Parker's turn.
His warlock hasn't moved.
He stands at the edge of the torchlight, watching the battle.
His character's fingers curl.
Something dark gathers around his hand.
Not fire.
Not lightning.
Something colder.
A pressure in the air.
The torch flame bends toward him.
Parker says, “Eldritch Blast.”
The spell launches.
For an instant, it is almost invisible.
Then the darkness catches the light.
A bolt of crackling violet energy tears across the chamber.
It strikes the wounded gnoll in the chest.
The impact lifts it from its feet.
It slams into the stone wall hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling.
Parker rolls.
“Natural twenty.”
Everyone explodes.
Corbin laughs.
“Okay. That's a critical hit.”
Parker sits back.
“I would like to revise my earlier statement.”
Charlotte grins.
“The darkness approves.”
Parker nods solemnly.
“The darkness is very pleased.”
A critical hit means Parker gets to roll his damage twice.
The dice hit the table.
The numbers are good.
Very good.
Corbin describes what happens.
The eldritch energy tears through the gnoll's armor and hurls it backward. It hits the wall with a wet crack and collapses into the bones.
For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of the cave.
Water dripping.
The hiss of the torch.
Someone breathing hard.
Then Gabriel says:
“I think we may have overcommitted to the whole ‘capture them alive’ strategy.”
Charlotte laughs.
The second gnoll comes for Charlotte.
It is fast.
Much faster than she expected.
She raises her rapier.
The spear thrusts.
She twists away.
The point catches her across the side.
Her character stumbles.
Charlotte looks at Corbin.
“How bad?”
“Five damage.”
She checks her sheet.
“That's half my health.”
Nathaniel's expression changes.
“I move between them.”
His cleric steps forward.
The gnoll snarls.
Its breath smells of old meat.
Nathaniel raises his holy symbol.
“You will not touch her again.”
Gabriel looks over.
“Oh, now we get the speech.”
Nathaniel shakes his head.
“No speech.”
Gabriel looks genuinely disappointed.
Charlotte doesn't wait.
She steps around Nathaniel's shoulder.
Her bard draws her rapier.
The blade is thin and bright in the torchlight.
“I attack.”
She rolls.
“Seventeen.”
“Hit.”
She drives the rapier forward.
It slips beneath the gnoll's arm and catches in the soft space between ribs.
The creature howls.
Charlotte pulls the blade free.
“That's for the kidnapping.”
She pauses.
“And the terrible smell.”
Corbin looks at the damage.
The gnoll is still standing.
Charlotte sighs.
“Fine. The smell was a separate issue.”
Then the third gnoll blows the horn.
The sound is horrible.
It isn't loud in the ordinary sense.
It is deep.
A vibration that seems to crawl through the stone beneath their feet.
Dust shakes loose from the ceiling.
The torch flame gutters.
Everyone freezes.
Corbin tells them to make Wisdom saving throws.
Four dice roll.
Gabriel gets an eight.
Parker gets a seven.
Charlotte gets a sixteen.
Nathaniel gets a fourteen.
Corbin looks around the table.
“Charlotte and Nathaniel are fine. Gabriel and Parker…”
He looks at them.
“You both feel something inside your heads.”
Parker's character goes still.
The sound isn't in his ears anymore.
It's inside his skull.
For half a second, the cave disappears.
He sees something enormous moving through darkness.
Legs.
Too many legs.
A pale body sliding across stone.
Then the vision is gone.
Parker looks up.
“Did I see that?”
Corbin smiles.
“You don't know.”
Parker slowly nods.
“Okay.”
Gabriel's Paladin drops to one knee.
His vision blurs.
His sword feels suddenly heavy.
The gnoll charges.
Charlotte shouts.
“Gabe!”
The spear comes down.
Gabriel manages to raise his shield.
The impact knocks him backward.
His shield hits the ground.
The gnoll raises its spear for another strike.
Nathaniel moves.
“I'm casting Healing Word.”
There is no elaborate gesture.
No time for one.
The cleric speaks a single word of power.
Warmth rushes through Gabriel's body.
The pain in his chest eases.
His fingers tighten around his sword.
At the table, Nathaniel rolls the healing.
“Six.”
Gabriel looks at his character sheet.
“I'm back up.”
He stands.
Charlotte grins.
“Get him.”
Gabriel looks at the gnoll.
“Oh, I intend to.”
The Paladin charges.
His boots splash through the shallow water.
The gnoll thrusts.
Gabriel catches the spear on his shield.
He twists.
The weapon skids away.
For an instant, the gnoll is completely exposed.
Gabriel brings the sword around with both hands.
The blade strikes across its chest.
The gnoll staggers.
Gabriel steps forward.
Again.
The sword rises.
Again.
The final strike drives the gnoll backward into the stone.
It slides down the wall and does not rise.
Silence fills the chamber.
Then Gabriel exhales.
“Okay.”
Charlotte lowers her rapier.
“That was cool.”
Gabriel nods.
“Yes.”
He looks around the table.
“I would like everyone to know that was exactly how I planned it.”
Parker says, “You were unconscious for part of it.”
“Part of the plan.”
And Then You Come Up for Air
This is what sitting at a D&D table actually feels like.
One minute you're watching a die bounce across a folding table.
The next, you can practically feel the cold stone under your hands.
You laugh because Gabriel's Paladin just gave a heroic speech while bleeding all over the cave.
You hold your breath because Charlotte has six hit points left.
You cheer because Parker rolled a natural twenty and turned a spell into something spectacular.
You watch Nathaniel quietly save somebody's life.
And then you look down.
The table is still there.
The pizza is still there.
Your character sheet is still covered in pencil marks.
Someone needs to find the d20 that rolled underneath the rulebook.
And Corbin is already turning the page of his notes.
“Okay,” he says.
“Combat's over.”
The cave is quiet again.
The party searches the bodies.
They find scraps of clothing.
An elven cloak.
A silver pendant.
A child's wooden carving.
Evidence that some of the people taken from the Salt Road never made it out.
The mood changes.
This isn't treasure anymore.
It's a crime scene.
Then Parker notices something.
“Corbin.”
“Yeah?”
“There are webs.”
Everyone looks up.
Thin strands stretch across the ceiling.
They hadn't been there in the torchlight before.
Or perhaps they had.
The strands are almost transparent.
Charlotte steps closer.
One catches against her sleeve.
She pulls away.
The web stretches.
And stretches.
And doesn't break.
Parker looks at the scratches on the wall.
“That's not a bird.”
Charlotte slowly looks at him.
“No.”
Gabriel raises his sword.
“I knew that.”
Charlotte turns.
“You absolutely did not.”
“I suspected.”
“You said bird.”
“A tactical misdirection.”
Nathaniel looks down the passage.
The webbing gets thicker there.
It hangs from the ceiling in long curtains.
Beyond it, the passage disappears into darkness.
Something drips.
Not water.
Something thick.
Something that lands on the stone with a soft, sticky sound.
Parker's warlock takes a step backward.
“Corbin.”
Corbin looks at him.
“Yeah?”
Parker points into the darkness.
“Do we hear that?”
Corbin smiles.
“Make a Perception check.”
The table goes quiet.
Four players reach for their dice.
And somewhere in the darkness ahead, something moves.
Eight small eyes open.
To be continued.
If this sounds like your kind of fun, join us for Storyforge at Monkey Llama Games in Portland, MI.
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