Dungeons & Dreaming

Dreamed I was playing D&D again.  It wants to come back into my life.

My brother’s character, who was a bard of some type, had an actual animated, talking pile of garbage as some sort of familiar.

My character, who was a ranger veteran just back from the wars, said, “What the hell is this?”

Pete sniffed, “It’s a perfectly common magical construct.”

I said, “It’s a talking pile of garbage!”

Mouthy, too. It kept interrupting.

Our dad was playing, too, but he hasn’t played in decades, so he needed a lot of hand-holding.  We had another new player, too, a young lady I knew from work, I think.  She wanted to cosplay as her character, which, fine, but she was also being shy and creating a lot of drama about it. Which was a drag, but I was trying to give her a break because she was new.  Much as in real D&D, we were simultaneously our characters, and our actual selves.

Our milieu was a rambling, seedy subtropical city on the shores of a shallow sea, built on many islands.  Like a sweaty Venice.  (New Orleans in the future?)

Hopefully I can put some of this to use one day.

Probably not the pile of garbage, though.

 

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