THE SAGA OF AN ADVENTURER LOOKING FOR… ADVENTURE

The roleplaying world is becoming more and more accessible, but many gamers still maintain an outdated view of how much investment is required to try out roleplaying. It’s very likely that, with the many thematic board games that have come out in recent years, most of the tabletop community has roleplayed to some extent even if they weren’t aware of it. So this is a fun exploration, a fictional dive, a meta-commentary on the exploits of one man who sought to demystify the world of roleplaying.

NIGHT OF THE SECOND DAY

The man sat on the edge of the bed, unmoving.

He needed a name. Something other than the RPB Noob. Something other than “the bard”. He yearned for a name that would grant him a face on the outside and comfort on the inside. Crowds of people (though numbers meant nothing to me) walked by the large windows (which he didn’t know were a thing) of his apartment that flickered in and out of solid form like a nebulous cloud of both infinite and minute proportions.

A name would keep him tethered to this world as a giant metal anchor in the stormy seas of his mind.

A discordant tune rang out in a mournful wail. The man looked down. His hands were wrapped around the accordion, pumping out a lament for the void in his heart and his mouth. He opened his lips. No sounds came out. The scratchy yet silky chords of the accordion managed to say what he could not.

A chromatic hum sent waves through the air and crackled in the man’s freshly-crafted soul like popping embers in a smoldering fire. He looked down. The bard’s harmonica rest against his lips, held in place with metal braces that wrapped around his neck. The melody of the small instrument echoed the sentiments of the accordion, resulting in a pairing of twang and trill that filled the walls of the room.

It was an orchestra of pain.

To not know your name is to not know some core piece of the self that drives identity and ambition. Such a gaping hole in the man must be remedied.

But where to look? The cosmic hand had begun to fade on this second day, but its phantom digits still lingered in the air, as if waiting expectantly for one final act of creation.

A desk materialized nearby the bed. Atop the desk was a strange device, hewn from metal and glass, with small plates set on springs with glyphs stamped on the top. Some might call it a laptop. The man wouldn’t. He was a sponge saturated with water, no longer able to soak up the knowledge that came pouring in from all of his senses. But he instinctively knew what to do. Moving over to the desk, he sat down at a chair that wasn’t there a moment ago and typed with fingers that flew over the laptop with precision.

The nameless bard marveled at his skill.

Three hours later, he had made no progress. A rabbit-hole descent onto a platform named YouTube had provided him with a glimpse of what could be achieved with his accordion and harmonica. The realm of the possible had expanded. But he still had no name.

Until he stumbled upon Google. This depository of knowledge, both true and false, was a springboard that led him to strange blogs of expectant and post-natal mothers with lists upon lists of names.

He just had to find the right one.

Martin? No, too erudite.

Steve? No, too bland.

Greg? Stewart? Jack? Kyle? Leonard?

Nothing seemed to fit. Until he saw it. His name. It called to him like a pulsing beacon in the night. Roger. Roger the RPG Noob.

And another piece of the man’s form solidified—a clay figure hardening in heat.

A voice, whisper-soft and still learning the language of the world, emanated from the man’s mouth: “Roger, you know who you are. You know your name. You must now learn the way of the roleplay. Your character is near completion. Your purpose has been writ. The tools within your grasp, instruments of melodious virtue and technological might, can aid you in the journey.”

Roger raised a hand to his mouth. Then lowered it. And clenched his fists in determination.

He shouldered the accordion. Stowed the harmonica. Closed the laptop. Grabbed an adventurer’s pack that looked suspiciously like a messenger bag. And he walked out the door of his apartment into blinding light and an unknown future.