π² In the Beginning, There Were Dice
π² In the Beginning, There Were Dice
I don’t remember the first time I held a D20, but I remember the feeling. Like fate had been broken into numbers — and for once, I had a say in how the story went.
Dungeons & Dragons wasn’t just a game. It was a portal. A lifeline. A chance to escape, explore, and — strange as it sounds — become more me than I ever could in the real world.
In the game, I could hunt in silence, speak with beasts, walk the wilds, or hold the line between light and shadow. Ranger, rogue, bard — I’ve played them all. But always, at the core, I was searching. For something honest. Something cracked. Something real beneath all the fantasy.
People once told me D&D was evil. Witchcraft. Corruption. But I knew better. I grew up around real darkness. The kind that doesn’t hide in monsters or magic, but in people. In silence. In trauma. And D&D wasn’t darkness — it was a light. A healing place.
I came back to the game later in life, older, maybe wiser, definitely scarred. This time as a DM — a worldbuilder. A storyteller. A guide for others walking into the woods. And now I’m even writing a book, building this blog, and letting those worlds I once escaped to finally escape me.
If you hear the chime, if you feel the pull — you’re welcome here.
The table’s not full. The dice are waiting.
Let’s roll.
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