Dating and Dragons (Dungeons and Drama, #2) (7)

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 tell her?”

“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 four p.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.