Two weeks ago, a group of ragtag wanderers and students of the road met in the basement of the Widow’s Walk Inn in Port O’Rock. Run by a group of fearful elders, Port O’Rock did not open its gates to travelers very often, and warned against leaving the few times that it did. When two smugglers, Alstern and Renard, offered passage out of the city, there were seven who paid their fee.
Among the hustle and bustle of a Sunday crowd of a certain PAX East, I found myself running to and fro through the tabletop area. It was the only day I was able to attend, and I had actually been somewhat forced to go by loved ones because life had sprung some nasty surprises recently (a long story for another time, perhaps), so I was determined to see and do as much as I could. As I actually rushed out of the tabletop area for a panel I came across an old friend from high school I hadn’t seen in a while; we exchanged greetings and well-wishes, then went our separate ways. After that weekend he got in touch, expressing a regret that he’d never gotten to play D&D and that he was wondering if I could help him out with that. Sure enough, I was able to put together a group, and we started playing. That was in 2013. The party reached Level 24 this past Wednesday.