Full Summary: Dungeons & Dragons may not be the first choice of entertainment for many of the nations, but soon they find themselves immersed in a world of fantasy and adventure. Taking on a quest of epic proportions to save the land of Hetalia, the strange group battle their way through goblins and orcs, save damsels in distress, and, perhaps, fall in love.
The main characters in this are England, France, America, Canada, Prussia, Japan, Italy, Germany, Romano, Spain, with Estonia leading the story. There will definitely be FrUK but other pairings I like (Ameripan, PruCan, GerIta, Spamano) will probably only be hinted at.
Dungeons & Dragons: Hetalia Edition
Chapter One
The meeting went three hours over schedule, an axe lay buried in the table, four chairs were ripped to pieces and one wall was riddled with bullet holes; all in all, one of the better days. As the meeting drew to an end and bloodied noses were stuffed with tissues, Estonia stood up to announce his chosen entertainment.
It was standard practice that the nation holding the meeting would provide entertainment at the conclusion. The activity varied greatly, as did its actual enjoyment factor. America renting out his local McDonald's had not gone down as well as Netherlands' pot party (though memories were fuzzy on that night) and whilst France's night of burlesque had been a classy affair, Prussia taking them to a sleazy strip club was not so much. Finland's saunas began promisingly until the silver birch made an appearance, and Canada was forbidden from inviting the nations to a 'friendly' hockey match after its last murderous turn.
Since the meetings were rarely held at Estonia's place, no one was really sure what he had in mind, especially after Latvia's hide and seek party where everyone hid for two hours because no one had thought to choose a seeker, and Belarus' impromptu wedding (which fell apart when the groom fled the country).
So it was with trepidation and anticipation that the nations waited for Estonia to open his mouth.
"Tonight," Estonia said, "I thought we could do something a little different."
Some of the nations leant forward. Some sank in their seats and thought up excuses to escape.
"We are going to play..."
"Strip poker?" France asked.
"Monopoly?" America suggested.
"Too Hot?" Poland winked at Lithuania.
"Dungeons and Dragons," Estonia said and brandished a book with said words on the cover.
The room lapsed into silence. It didn't exactly fit with the elegance of Japan's Geisha experience, the depravity of England's night of binge drinking or the trauma of visiting Iceland's penis museum.
"But that's for nerds," America said finally and broke the silence.
England clipped him round the ears. "Says the guy who went to comic-con dressed as Superman."
"Comic-con is cool, way cooler than sewing."
"What's that have to do with Dungeons and Dragons?"
"Because sewing is for nerds too!"
"I sewed clothes for Finland," Sweden said, his blank face and calm voice traumatising all around him.
"Well that's different," America said, not meeting Sweden's gaze.
"How?" England asked.
"Er..."
"Why doesn't Estonia-san tell us more about his game?" Japan suggested.
America nodded. "Yeah, yeah, do that."
Estonia laid a bunch of papers on the table. "Dungeons and Dragons is a fantasy role-playing game where everyone is assigned a specific character who then goes on an adventure. I'll be playing the role of Dungeon Master and leading the adventure."
Italy raised his hand. "Can I be a dragon?"
"If he's a dragon can I be the princess?" Poland asked. "Ooh and Liet can totally be my prince and Russia can be a nasty troll."
"That's not quite how it works," Estonia said with a shake of head. "I've already made the characters and given everyone a role. Take a look."
He handed out the papers across the table.
"Awesome," Denmark said with a big grin. "I'm a Barbarian."
"Me too," Spain said with an equally large smile.
"Why are you a Barbarian? And why the fuck am I a Battle Cleric? What the fuck is a Battle Cleric anyway?"
"I made Spain a Barbarian because of his bloodthirsty past," Estonia said to which Spain beamed. "And I made you and Italy Clerics because of your strong religious roots. That and I thought you needed a second healer on the team."
Italy frowned. "Why is Romano a Battle Cleric and I'm a Devoted Cleric?"
"Battle Clerics focus on offence, melee combat and Strength-based prayers. Devoted Clerics focus on support, ranged combat and Wisdom-based prayers."
"Um..."
"There's more information on the back of your sheet."
"Oooh."
"What did you say about teams?" Finland asked.
"I've put everyone into teams of ten otherwise there are too many people. Also because I'm the only Dungeon Master only one team will be able to play at a time."
"How do we play?" Germany asked.
"I'll provide a storyline for each team to reach. During the storyline I'll give a situation and you choose what action to take and roll the dice. If it reaches the desired number the action passes and if not it fails. Everyone takes a go in turn."
America nodded to mask his confusion, assuming he'd pick the game up as went. "Ok dude, but where's the board?"
"There is no board, this is an imagination based game."
America groaned. "That sounds like hard work."
"Actually," England said, tapping his chin. "We could use magic to make this more interesting."
The nations reacted with either scepticism or nervousness as they remembered England's magic mishaps, though Norway, Romania and Egypt appeared interested.
"What if I create a sort of shared astral plane that can bring the story to life?"
"Quoi?" France asked.
"The astral plane is a metaphysical-" Egypt began before Canada interrupted him.
"So America can understand."
"It's like an imaginary world that we can visit and manipulate," Norway answered.
"Basically we'll be able to see ourselves as our characters and our world as Estonia describes it," Romania said.
"Can you do that?" Estonia asked, a little doubtful after England's last spell had backfired and turned himself into a cat.
England smirked. "Between me, Norway, Romania and Egypt I think we could knock something up."
Estonia nodded hesitantly. "Until then, why doesn't everyone take a look at their character sheets and get acquainted."
Heads bowed as they read over their new profiles.
Almost immediately Sealand spoke up. "What's a Paladin?"
"Hey, what are you doing here?" England asked.
"I was invited, jerk face!"
"Don't give me that, you're not even a nation!"
"Yes I am, wanker, and I also got a character sheet so you can suck it and call me Peter Kirkland the Superest Paladin ever!"
"Cool, I'm a Paladin too," America said. "Whatever that is."
"A Paladin is a holy knight, a champion of justice and a destroyer of evil," Estonia explained. "I've listed stats and abilities on the back of your character sheets."
"The awesome me is an awesome Necromancer," Prussia said. "That's way better than a loser Paladin."
"I'm a highly charming and seductive Bard," France said.
"So you're just as poncy in the game as you are in real life," England said. "Figures."
"Says the man whose character is better at magic than he is."
"We'll see about that when I give you a beer belly in the astral plane. And split ends."
France gasped.
"I'm a Ranger," Canada said.
No one heard him.
"I'm a Ranger," Australia said. "And I've got Koala as my pet."
"Hey Japan, what are you?" Italy asked.
"I am a Rogue, Italy-san."
"So am I," Finland said.
Liechtenstein smiled a secret smile at the thrill of being a Rogue herself and Belarus planned how she might use her character's stealthy Rogue skills to steal up on Russia.
"What's with making me a half-orc?" Turkey glared at Estonia. "Are you trying to say something?"
Greece leant back in his chair and stifled a yawn. "He's making fun of your ugly face."
Turkey grabbed hold of Greece's shirt. "What did you say?"
"The character races are merely to add diversity, not a reflection of the player," Estonia said quickly before a fight could break out.
"What is a drow?" Russia asked.
"A dark elf. They have white hair, black skin and pointed ears. Halflings are small hobbit like creatures, half-orcs are between six and seven feet tall with a large build and green skin, and think The Lord of the Rings for elves and dwarves. Half-elves are a mixture of human and elf."
"When are we going to play?" Seychelles asked.
"Once the, er, astral plane is completed I'll begin with first team. Meanwhile, everyone should enjoy the bar while they get to know their characters."
#
Between the four magic capable nations, the astral plane was completed in under an hour. They had constructed it to conform to the story Estonia told and also to keep their characters actually in character. Not only would they resemble their character in race and appearance but their personality and statistics would follow that of their character sheets.
The astral plane could be accessed by closing their eyes and instantly they would be in their characters bodies and able to see the world described. They could still hear each other speaking though, but they would need to open their eyes to see each other sitting around the table.
England explained this to his team but decided it would be best to show them first-hand.
Estonia sat at the head of the table, tablet in hand to take notes as the game progressed. Around him sat the first team; France, England America, Canada, Prussia, Japan, Italy, Germany, Spain and Romano. After a few moments of wrapping up arguments, Estonia began the game.
#
"In the Kingdom of Hetalia, the Godstone – an ancient mystical jewel – has been stolen. Your task it to track it down and return it to Hetalia. Now, if you will close your eyes, you will find yourself in the alley behind a bustling tavern. I suggest you use this moment to get acquainted to the game and Hetalia."
Everyone closed their eyes. At once they were in Hetalia, in a filthy alley behind the bustling tavern named Seventh Heaven. Muffled music could be heard alongside boisterous laughter and the welcoming building promised warmth and drink. In the distance the castle stood against the darkening sky and overhead heavy clouds threatened rain. An unpleasant scent wafted their way in the breeze.
They took a moment to acclimate to their surroundings before they noticed each other. England, America, Germany, Italy and Romano looked exactly like their regular selves but for the clothes and weapons they wore. Canada and France both had pointed ears, though as a full elf, France had a glowing complexion that Canada lacked. Japan was smaller than ever, being a halfling, and blended into the shadows. Prussia and Spain looked the most different. Prussia, as a drow, retained his shock white hair and red eyes but his skin was inky black and his ears pointed. Being a half-orc, Spain towered above even Germany with green tinged skin, a jutting jaw and prominent teeth. He retained some of his features but he was the most changed.
"For sooth, this place be most goodly!"
The nations blinked their eyes open to stare at America.
"The fuck was that?" Romano asked.
America turned red. "I dunno, I was trying to say it was awesome and then... that came out. I don't even know I said."
"That was bastardised Olde English," England said, annoyed that America was now deciding to ruin his past speech too.
"But I didn't mean to say it!"
"All the Paladins use archaic speech," Estonia said.
"Why?"
Estonia shrugged. "I thought it would add diversity."
"Have you given us all different speech patterns?" Canada asked.
"Why not introduce yourselves and find out?"
Eyes were closed once more.
"Good day dear sirs. I am Alfred. F. Jones, Paladin to the great god, Tyr. Tis a pleasure to make thine acquaintance." Alfred fell to one knee and bowed his head.
An awkward moment passed between the strangers before the blond elf stepped forward. "It is my deepest honour to play companion to such a handsome gentleman. I am the famous Bard, Francis Bonnefoy."
The man in the deep green cloak and unfortunately large eyebrows narrowed his eyes. "You cannot be that famous if I have not read of you."
"Perhaps a private show would give you reason to remember me?"
"Fantastic. Your bloody character is as big a pervert as you."
"And your scowling character is just as grumpy as you are."
"Can we please get on with this?" Germany grumbled.
"I do not much enjoy the company of others," the cloaked man said.
"I think you would enjoy mine."
The cloaked man blushed.
"Would you be so kind as to reveal your name?" Francis asked, his musical voice swaying the other man.
"...Arthur Kirkland. I'm an apprentice Mage of the Circle Tower."
"Maybe later you could give a taste of your," Francis' gaze lowered, "magic."
England opened his eyes and pointed an accusing finger at France. "I'm not going to play if you're going to spend the entire game being lewd."
France sighed and opened his eyes too. "It is part of my character to be charming, just as it apparently is a part of yours to have a stick up his derrière."
"Hold your wicked tongue, Bard, unless you wish for me to remove it in the name of our great Watcher," spoke a man with a purple eye stitched upon the breast of his black robe.
Italy beamed at his brother. "Oh Romano, you're really getting into it."
Romano's face turned red. "What, no I wasn't, I was just telling France to shut up."
France huffed that Romano was ruining the mood as Italy introduced himself.
"Ah, what a pleasant evening our generous Watcher has bestowed upon this meeting of souls. I am Feliciano Vargas and this is my beloved brother, Lovino. We are loyal servants to his oh so wonderful holiness known as the Watcher." Feliciano smiled fondly at the group, his pure white robes contrasting his brother's, though the same eye was also visible.
"Do not introduce me in such a friendly matter to these peasants, brother," Lovino said, eyeing his company with a grimace.
"But it is good manners to talk as equals to our congregation."
"They are not my congregation; I would never preach to such beasts. They are filth unworthy to clean our feet."
"Who are you calling filth?" a drow in a showy white cape asked. "I bathe in the blood of my enemies at least twice a month, you prissy little Watcher boy."
"Do not speak His name, vile monster, or I shall curse your own wretched name."
"Hah, as if you could curse anything other than the woman who spawned you, priest. I, Gilbert the God Awful, shall show you a curse when I boil your innards and turn them into a delicious soup that I will enjoy with good mead drank from an orc's skull."
"Antonio feel sick," mumbled the giant Barbarian.
"I agree," added the tiny halfling. "That's a terrible meal. I recommend fish stew with a generous dose of salt."
Antonio looked down at the halfling who stood at less than half the Barbarian's height. "You small like child."
The halfling shrugged. "Perhaps, but it is much easier to sneak up on someone and loot their gold or stab them in the back when you're small and quiet."
Japan clapped a hand over his mouth. "I am sorry. I did not mean to be so distasteful."
The necromancer scoffed. "I can kill a man without having to lift a finger. I could even have his brutally slain family do it."
The man with slicked back blond hair burst into tears. "Mother! Father!" he shouted to the heavens before falling to his knees and crying into his hands.
The party glanced away and coughed awkwardly.
"Germany, are you alright?" Italy asked, grabbing his friend's face in both hands.
Germany blinked. "What just happened?"
Estonia turned his tablet around displaying Ludwig's character sheet. "Your character was orphaned after his parents were murdered. Apparently Gilbert's comment about slain families produced quite an emotional response."
"How do I make him stop?"
"You'll have to figure that out."
"Don't worry, Germany," Italy said. "I'll save you."
Feliciano knelt beside the weeping blond. "You poor soul. Tell me your troubles and let us pray to the great Watcher for solace."
"Keep your thankless prayers to yourself. No God can help me now." The blond man withdrew from the priest and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.
"But if you would only take Him into your heart you would-"
"Would what? Have my parents alive? Have their murderer caught? I think not, Feliciano, so do not speak to me again of such matters. In fact do not speak to me at all should you wish to keep your tongue."
Italy gasped. "Germany, why are you being so mean?"
"I swear I'm not doing it on purpose."
"Lay a hand on my brother and I will smite you with all His wrath, heathen," Lovino growled, stepping between the two men.
"Typical of a priest," the blond man said, "to jump to threats when their targets cannot be swayed by sweet lies."
Gilbert waved a dismissive hand. "Pfft, you call that a threat? Try 'lay a hand on my brother and I will rip out the hearts of all you love, turn them into my undead puppets and make them devour you piece by piece'."
"Antonio no like."
"A bit over dramatic for my tastes," the halfling said. "I'd just poison his food, have him spend a few days in agony as his insides liquefied before he keeled over."
Japan blushed. "I did not mean to say that. Please pardon my character's remarks."
"Hey, you're not half bad," Gilbert said and slung an arm around the halfling's shoulders. "What was your name again?"
The halfling tilted his head. "Call me Kiku."
"You two are foul," Lovino spat. "I look forward to cleansing the both of you from this earth."
"You're not being very nice in this game, fratello."
Romano harrumphed and made no apologies.
"I don't think it's a very good idea to fight," came a meek voice from behind Antonio. "We should try to get along while we complete our task."
"Who are you?" Ludwig asked with distrust in his eyes.
Canada sighed. He'd hoped his character wouldn't be ignored even if he was.
"I'm Matthew Williams, a Ranger."
Arthur's gaze flicked over his companion. "We have another elf in the group?"
"Actually I'm not really an elf."
"Really? But you look odd for a human."
"Umm..."
"Duh," Francis said. "He is obviously a half-elf. I recognise him from his sexy hair because it is so much like my own but not as good."
"Are you trying to imply there might be something wrong with my hair? This is the current style inside the tower; I assumed it was much the same outside." Arthur self-consciously pulled the hood of his cloak over his head.
"Only a punk who has no sense of style would wear the 'attacked by scissors' look, mon ami" France said.
"Now that the introductions are over," Estonia spoke hurriedly, "how about we start the game rather than rehash old arguments?"
England and France grumbled under their breaths but made no attempt to continue the argument.
"Ok," Estonia continued. "Remember your goal is to find the stolen Godstone and return it to Hetalia. The success of your choices will not be based on the dice rolls. I wish you good luck. France, would you like to go first?"
France tipped his head to the side as he mused. Then the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a devious smile. "For my turn I flirt with Arthur."
"What?" England yelled. "You can't do that."
Estonia rolled the dice. "Yes he can. Francis successfully flirts with Arthur."
"What?!" England yelled again.
Francis sidled up to Arthur. A soft smile graced his features. "Oh beauteous creature, if I had all the time in the world to write a sonnet it would never match the loveliness of your features."
England gagged but Arthur turned bright red and made stuttering noises.
"What the hell? That was shit! There's no way my character would react positively to that drivel!"
"The dice says you do. Also Arthur's relationship with Francis has strengthened which means France won't need as high a roll to succeed if he chooses to flirt again," Estonia said as he tapped the screen on his tablet.
France smirked and England shuddered.
"My turn," Spain said. "I want to flirt too, but with Lovino."
"Don't you fucking dare," Romano said and shot Spain his best glare.
Germany sighed. "Are we going to spend this entire game flirting with each other's characters?"
"Not according to the dice," Estonia said.
Antonio eyed Lovino up and down and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You pretty like woman. Me like."
Lovino kicked the Barbarian in the groin. "Touch me again and I will turn you into ash."
Antonio fell to his knees.
The nations winced in shared sympathy.
"Minus five damage to Antonio."
Romano smiled for the first time.
"This is boring," America announced. "For my turn I wanna do something cool, like an awesome sword trick."
The dice was rolled. "It starts off well..." Estonia said.
Alfred spun the sword around him in a flashy dance before throwing the weapon up in the air-
"...but it doesn't quite go to plan."
-and the sword fell down and sliced through the middle finger on his left hand.
"Minus ten damage."
"Holy shit," America said as blood spurted across the alley.
Alfred stared at the finger on the floor and then at his wounded hand, a look of bafflement on his face. "Why would'st I do something so foolish?" he murmured.
"Wow, even your character thinks you're an idiot, England said.
Prussia laughed loudly. "What a loser."
"Hey if you think you can do better than me why don't you roll for it," America said, a little miffed that, health points wise at least, he was indeed the loser.
"Fine. I declare my awesomeness."
The dice was rolled.
Gilbert hovered in the air, dark energy emanating from his body. "Bow down before me, lesser beings, for I am now Gilbert the Awesome and will be recognised as such."
The others nodded their approval, whispering what great powers he had, what amazing skills he'd obtained and how well the black leather hugged his ass.
"Kesesese."
"Whatever," America said with a huff.
Estonia glanced at his tablet. "Alfred loses another health point."
"What? Why?"
"Your finger is still bleeding. Your character is just staring at it."
"Quick someone help me!" America leapt across the table and grabbed Italy and Romano's arms. "You guys can heal, right? Do something before I die."
"You've got eighty nine health points left," England said. "I don't think you're in any danger of bleeding out before you find a bandage."
"What if it gets infected or something? Or I pass out?"
"Hey, fatass, get your hand off me," Romano said and tried peeling America's fingers off him.
"Heal me then I'll let you go."
"Fine. For my turn I will... no, I'm going to curse Ludwig with this spell here: Judgement Hex."
"Dude!"
Lovino brought his hands together in prayer. With quickly uttered words, a bolt of golden light shone between his hands before smacking Ludwig in the chest. Ludwig stumbled backwards, immediately finding his sword but instead of raging towards Lovino, swirling vision brought Ludwig head face first into the wall after which he tumbled onto his backside.
Romano laughed.
Germany frowned. "I use War Cry on Lovino for my turn."
Ludwig stumbled to one knee. He pulled back his arms, puffed out his chest and as a red haze appeared on the ground, he let loose an almighty roar. And for one second the sound was deafening, the ground rumbling, until Ludwig's balance wavered and he stumbled to the side.
"Sorry," Estonia said. "You didn't achieve a high enough roll to counter Lovino's Judgement Hex."
Italy patted Germany on the shoulder. "It was a good try."
"Hey, idiota, you're my fratello, you should be backing me up!"
"Well you did attack him for no reason in the first place."
"Like I need a reason."
Spain wrapped an arm around Romano's shoulders. "Come now, Roma. We're only playing a game, there's no need to get so intense."
"Alfred loses another health point," Estonia noted.
"England, Canada, someone save me!" America yelled.
"I will help you America-san."
Kiku opened a pouch at his belt and approached a still shocked Alfred. "Here you go," he said as he wrapped up the wounded hand. "There's no reattaching the finger but at least you came out with a funny story."
Alfred stared sorrowfully at his hand before turning to the Rogue. "Thou are a most goodly fellow. I thank ye for thine kind actions."
"No problem. Do you mind if I keep the finger?"
"I-I suppose."
"Thanks. I can use it as an ingredient for a poison I'm concocting." Kiku dropped the severed finger into one of his pouches.
America scrunched up his face. "I can't believe you kept my finger. That's gross."
Japan bowed his head and hid his red face.
"Well you're the moron who cut it off in the first place," England said. "Now it's my turn and I want to burn Francis' beard off with... ooh, Flame Blast sounds good."
Arthur held his hands up. Fire sparked to life between them as he turned to Francis.
"Oh Arthur," Francis said. "You don't need to lash out because you're afraid to be loved. Still your magic and let me into your heart."
The fire between Arthur's palms burned brightly. "I-I'm not afraid to be loved, I just have no room for such frivolous pursuits in my life. I was sent on this quest by the Senior Enchanter to enhance my skills and to test out my knowledge in the outside world as the final assessment to complete my apprenticeship; that is all."
"You poor soul," Francis said with a shake of his head that sent golden tresses fluttering around his face. "Arthur, you have spent all your life locked up away from the world, never experiencing the joy of another touching your heart, or your body. Say only the word and I shall teach you all you have missed."
The magic sputtered and fizzled away to smoke. "I should not have attacked you," Arthur said. "But neither can I be distracted from the task at hand. Let us complete this quest as allies and spare further talk of romance."
"Aww," Italy said. "That was sweet. Your characters are so cute together."
Japan nodded. "I ship it."
England banged his hands on the table. "I wanted to set him on fire, not have a heart to heart."
"Your words say one thing but your actions speak of l'amour," France purred into his ears.
"Fuck off, France. And fuck your character too."
"We shall see where the story takes us," France said before England lunged at him and knocked them both from their chairs to the floor.
"Right," Estonia said, ignoring the wrestling nations. "Canada, would you like to take your go?"
"Ok." Canada paused, unsure what he actually wanted to do. "I suppose I could go to that pub and ask around about the Godstone."
"An excellent choice." Estonia rolled the dice. "Matthew does indeed advance the already stagnant plot."
Matthew pointed to Seventh Heaven. "It is getting late and mead and wine will have loosened tongues. Let us question those inside so we may learn who has stolen the Godstone and where they might have taken it."
Matthew led the way to the pub, his motley crew trailing behind. The Ranger opened the door and led them through into the warmth.
A/N: The idea for this fic came about when I was thinking of the Community episode 'Advanced Dungeons & Dragons' (which is still one of my favourite episodes) and as I've being wanting to write a fantasy Hetalia fic it seemed a perfect combination.
This is basically the introductory chapter and I'll get more into the plot (what little there is of it) next chapter. You may note from this chapter that I haven't actually played D&D so there's a lot of bullshit and a lot taken from the RPG's I have played. Pretty much everything in here is named from a game/show/book I like so you may recognise bits and pieces.
As I'm kind of testing out the characters D&D personalities please let me know if you think something works or doesn't. Also I'm not really sure what to do with Matthew so again if anyone has any nifty thoughts then I'd love to hear them.