Chapter Four

Whatever I was expecting to see, it’s not what I find at the bottom of the basement stairs. Sure, there are the usual things you find in a lot of Ohio basements. There’s worn carpet, low ceilings, and a well-used couch pointed at a big TV. There’s even an Ohio State sign on the wall, which looks old enough that it might have been installed by the builders in the ’80s.

And, of course, they have a long table covered with D&D manuals, papers, and figurines. But there are also webcams set up on tripods and table microphones at each of the seats.

Kashvi waves to another person, who’s clearly waiting for the group. “This is Sloane. They’re our DM.”

I wave hello, immediately recognizing Sloane from the striped rainbow hat in the parking lot that first morning. Short tufts of black hair, tinged purple and blue, stick out from under their hat, and they’re wearing a black Fullmetal Alchemist T-shirt.

They wave back from behind a trifold DM screen. “Quinn, right? Welcome.”

“Thanks.” Everyone files in around me and sits down at their respective chairs at the table. “Um, what’s with all the tech?” I ask.

In my old group, there was an unwritten rule that we wouldn’t be on our tablets or phones during the session unless we were looking something up. It kind of kills the mood of role-playing when half the members are too busy on Reddit to pay attention to what’s happening in the game. But I’ve never seen anything like this setup.

Logan shoots Kashvi a surprised look. “You didn’t tellher?”

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“I didn’t want to scare her,” she replies to him before turning to me. “We aren’t a usual D&D group. We actually livestream all our sessions.”

“Like Critical Role?”

They all smile and nod. “We’re not quite as popular as them yet, but yeah,” Mark replies. “They’re one of our idols. Someday we’ll get viewers like they do.”

I try to school my features, but that’s a pretty huge dream. That D&D group has had a massive online following for years. Millions of people watch the Critical Role D&D sessions and TV show. “So…do people tune in for your games?”

Sanjiv huffs. “Do you think we’d do all this if people didn’t tune in?”

He gestures at the diffused lighting and decor. I see now that bookshelves line the walls on either side of the table. They’re filled with various editions of D&D manuals, fake potion bottles, weapons, and dice, I guess so that there’s a themed backdrop behind the players. “We’re making an exception, but usually no one is allowed in this room except players,” he continues.

“If you want to watch us, you stream it,” Sloane adds, and points to a laptop to their right.

“Okay, she’s got it,” Kashvi says to them. To me she explains in a quieter voice, “They get a little defensive, sorry. We’ve had a few sessions where we got close to seventy-five viewers, but mostly it’s thirty people or less.”

“It’s growing,” Mark adds.

“Today we’ll get big numbers,” Sloane adds. “People love watching the end of a campaign.”

I nod, my eyes big. “That’s cool.”

“It’s extremely cool,” Sanjiv says.

“Well, sit back and enjoy,” Logan says with a small smile. He’s the only one who isn’t being intense about this livestream, and I appreciate it.

He turns to Sloane. “Are we about ready?”

“Ready,” they reply.

Everyone gets settled into their respective seats, swiping at their hair and messing with their dice. I tiptoe over to Sloane to check out the livestream visuals on the laptop. Sloane is projected in a square box on the left-hand side of the screen, while the others are framed in two rectangular boxes, one above the other, on the right side. Logan and Mark are in the top rectangle because they’re sitting next to each other at the table, and Kashvi and Sanjiv fill the other rectangle.

I don’t have a lot of experience with livestream D&D games, though Caden and I used to listen to a D&D gaming podcast together— The Smiling DM. Like Critical Role, that group is also super-famous with tens of thousands of followers and a professional setup. This doesn’t look as polished, but they’ve managed to replicate the same idea. Because Sloane is the DM, it makes sense that they have one camera only on them, while the other cameras let viewers see the rest of the players so they can watch interactions and facial expressions. And the bookshelves behind them create a nice ambiance. Kashvi and Sanjiv are lucky their parents are cool enough to allow them to take over the basement for this. My parents definitely wouldn’t be.

“You haven’t started streaming yet, have you?” I ask over Sloane’s shoulder.

“No,” they reply with a laugh, “or I’d be pushing you out of the camera frame. Our livestream runs every Saturday from two to fourp.m., and we don’t start until that exact time. We post the schedule online and viewers get annoyed if we start early or late. That’s one of the best ways to lose viewers—inconsistency.”

I nod, starting to understand why Kashvi and Sanjiv questioned if I was up for this. It’s already way more serious than anything I’ve done.

Sloane points at the bottom of the screen where there’s a chat box. “If people subscribe to our channel, then they get extra benefits like access to the chat room and unique emojis. It’s too much for me to monitor the chat during the session, but it’s fun to look back at it afterward and see what people were saying.”

There’s a notice at the top of the chat: No rules lawyering or backseat gaming.

“What’s this?” I ask, and point to the warning.

“Ugh, some people love to get on and tell us how we’re doing everything wrong. It’s annoying, so we added that.” They look at the clock. “Okay, it’s time.” They gesture for me to sit by the wall so I’m not on camera. Luckily, if I squint, I can still see the screen. “And we’re live in three…two…one….” They click a button and everyone straightens.

As soon as the livestream opens, viewers start rolling in. My eyes widen at the numbers. Thirty, fifty, eighty. They just keep coming. To watch a D&D game run by teenagers? This is definitely not what I was expecting.

“Wow,” I say, before slapping a hand over my mouth. The others stiffen but don’t look my way. Whoops, I guess this’ll be a silent session for me.

“Welcome to all our viewers. We are Don’t Split the Party, and you’ve come on an auspicious day. For months, this party has battled everything from goblins to giants all in the hopes of reaching the wizard’s tower so they can recover the stolen wardstone and return safely to their homeland. It all comes down to today. Will they roll well and survive, or will today be their last?”

The others smile at each other. “I’m ready to avenge my mother’s death,” Mark says.

“And I’m ready to annihilate this wizard,” Kashvi says.

“You’ve certainly waited long enough. Let’s do this,” Logan says.

Sloane hunches forward, their face intent and voice low. “You stand in front of the massive wooden door to the wizard’s tower. The large trees surrounding the tower sway ominously and the sky is shadowy at twilight. The world is perfectly silent, as if every bird and beast is also waiting for the fight that is about to happen. How would you like to proceed?”

I notice that all the faces swivel to Logan, as if he’s the defacto leader of the group.

“What do you want to do, Hathor?” Mark asks.

“I’ll detect and dispel any magic the wizard has left,” Logan replies, but he’s not Logan anymore. He has a Scottish accent, and he sits up to make himself even larger than usual. He must be playing a magic user—probably another wizard—if he’s using spells.

“I run in first,” Sanjiv says as soon as they’ve broken down the door. “There’s no way there isn’t something else waiting to kill us in there.”

“You’re not going without me,” Kashvi replies.

“Good, because I don’t want to die today,” Sanjiv replies, and they share a grin. I couldn’t tell earlier if she got along with her twin brother, but they definitely seem to be a teamnow.

“You make it up a dozen steps before you hear the ear-bleeding sound of metal raking against stone.” To my amazement, Sloane pulls a rock and a small (but real-looking) sword from under the table and scrapes them together to create the sound effect. The grating noise sends shivers up my spine.

“Could it be a cage door opening? Maybe the wizard is releasing something?” Mark asks.

“Maybe.” Logan’s eyes cut to Sloane, who is smiling. Never a good sign.

“It’s a good guess,” Sloane tells the group, “but what you heard wasn’t a cage door…. It was armor. The clanking and scraping grow louder until you can barely think, and then five animated suits of armor come into view, each wielding two short swords.”

The party jumps into action again and I sit back, caught up in the role-playing. I’m blown away by how immersed each of them is in the game. It’s as if they are the characters and nothing can distract them. We weren’t nearly this committed in my last group. The five of us—Caden, Paige, Makayla, Travis, and myself—spent as much time joking, eating, and messing around as we did role-playing and running through encounters. Actually, it was probably closer to a 70/30 split. We barely made progress with the campaign.

But here? They joke with each other, but it’s only within the context of the game. No one’s interrupting to complain about the latest essay in Mrs.Calson’s class or bringing up the fight that broke out in the north hallway on Friday. And how can they all do accents? I don’t know any accents.

They polish off the armor and begin their search for the wardstone. I’m not sure what’s going on since this is my first time at their game, but I get the impression that Logan’s character and this evil wizard have some serious history—maybe they’re brothers?—and Logan is definitely giving it his all. The wizard sics some harpy minions on the party to distract them, and Logan half stands in his chair, screaming and sending orders. The twins work together, killing anything in sight, while Mark heals whichever party members need it. By the time they’ve defeated the wizard and the session ends, my heart is racing and I fall back against the chair. It’s almost like watching actors onstage as they improvise their lines. It’s incredibly impressive. Especially Logan. You’d think he really had a lifelong feud with his evil wizard uncle.

I’ve been too caught up to watch what’s happening on the screen, but I now see that the number of viewers has climbed to one hundred fifty. I take a deep breath. This is cool and all, but am I ready to have that many people watch me role-play live? What if I get confused and say something stupid? I mean, let’s be real, the question is when I do that, not if.

When the campaign is complete, they cheer and chat for a few minutes about how great it’s been before signing off. Once it’s clear that the livestream has ended, they all fall back in their chairs like I did, laughing and high-fiving.

“That was epic!” Logan cries. He points at Mark. “That was inspired when you paralyzed that harpy and used it as cover.”

“It just came to me!”

“And you two,” Sloane says, pointing to Kashvi and Sanjiv. “Amazing teamwork.”

The twins grin and elbow each other. “I can’t believe this is over,” Sanjiv says. The others nod sadly.

“But not forever. We’re starting a new campaign, and it’s going to be even better than this one,” Sloane reminds everyone.

“How many viewers did we get today?” Logan asks.

“A new high—a hundred and sixty-two.”

“All right, new goal, then. We’re hitting two hundred and fifty with our next campaign. Maybe even five hundred!”

Everyone chuckles and shakes their heads.

Kashvi turns around in her chair to look at me. “What did you think, Quinn?”

“You all are unbelievable.”

“So?” She raises an eyebrow. “Do you think you’re up to joining?”

“Wait,” Logan interrupts, his eyes flashing at me. “You’re thinking about joining the group?”

“Why did you think I had her come in today?” Kashvi asks incredulously.

My stomach sinks at the change in Logan’s expression. It’s as if Kashvi’s announced I’ll be swinging by every Saturday to pour a bucket of manure on the game table.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I thought maybe you were hanging out after or something. You play D&D?”

“Yes, I play,” I reply sharply. “Just…you know, not likethis.”

“You get used to it,” Mark says, and takes a huge gulp of Dr Pepper directly from the two-liter. “The cameras are intimidating at first and you overanalyze every word you say, but eventually you forget that anyone is watching and it’s just fun. I bet you’d love it.”

“You should consider joining. It would be great to have another player,” Sloane adds.

“I know I might have given you a hard time before”—Sanjiv glances at his sister—“but it’d be cool to have you. It’s good to switch things up so we don’t fall into a rut. And I know it’d make Kashvi happy.”

Logan’s eyes narrow at Sanjiv, but his silence is all I need to realize that Logan does not want me here as a player. Seriously? He was so nice before—what’s so horrible about me playing with the group? Am I not good enough for them? He doesn’t know me well enough to guess what kind of player I am.

I cock my head at him. “What do you think, Logan?”

His eyes widen, like he didn’t expect me to call him out. “Uh, you should do what you want to do.”

“But what do you think I should do? I’d like to hear your opinion.”

He clears his throat. I’m glad to see I can make him squirm.

“Do you think I can’t cut it? Or are you hesitating because you don’t want another girl in the campaign?” I push.

His mouth drops open. “ What? No, it’s not that at all! I don’t care about that.”

Rather than standing up for Logan, everyone waits in silence, and I feel both vindicated and slightly nauseous. So it’s not in my head—he really doesn’t want me to join.

“It’s just…well…” He looks around again. “I’m not sure if you’d be a good fit. We’re high energy when we play, and you seem kind of quiet and easily intimidated. We need personalities more like your grandma actually—take no prisoners.”

I smirk. “That’d be your funeral. She’d role-play you all under the table.”

The others laugh.

“No decisions are being made yet,” Sloane says slowly. “But we’ve wanted to add another player, and no one else we’ve talked to can commit to our guidelines.”

“We’re doing a session zero on Wednesday after school to plan our characters for the next campaign. Why don’t you come?” Kashvi asks me. “We’ll tell you about how our group works, you can think about what character you’d want to play, and we can all chat more about whether it makes sense.” She cuts her gaze to Logan.

If I’m being honest, this whole thing is intimidating. I love D&D, but I’m more of a casual player than an expert. I was hoping for an informal game. But today is the first time since we moved that I’ve had real hope that I can make new friends here. I don’t want to quit before giving this a shot, no matter how obnoxious Logan is about the whole thing.

“I’ll be there,” I reply confidently. “Wouldn’t miss it foranything.”