Chapter One: Crazy As Using THAC0

Pidge breathed deeply in through the nose and out again through the mouth. Steadying herself, calming herself. She had run the game plenty of times back on Earth. Just, online. She knew the rules by heart. However, this was the first time sitting down at a table with actual people, as she had always wanted to try. Matt and she had gone through one or two adventures together, taking turns behind the screen, but that was hardly running for a full table. Even though or maybe perhaps because it was her five closest friends in the universe, the nervousness was beginning to weigh heavily on her. For the twentieth or thirtieth time she scoured the play area. Each player had their character sheets. Each player had their own set of seven polyhedral dice, the most recent set – a translucent blue for Lance – were fresh from the 3D printer she had recently cobbled together from odds and ends. Each player had a pencil, a small colour coded cone for their place on the map and easy access to said map. Exactly the way it was the last time she checked just a few ticks ago. Pidge took her seat at the head of the table again, rummaging through and re-reading her notes for the session ahead. It wasn't the most complex of adventures, sure, but the rest of the table were only beginners.

The far door hissed softly open, a cheery Shiro was first to arrive with a kind wave. He looked quizzically about the table, examining one of Hunk's yellow dice, the kind he was most familiar with. Six sides, little cube, nice and simple. The oddest part was that rather than pips, the six sides printed the numbers in white. The other shapes of dice were all quite outside his field of expertise. Though, from elementary 3D geometry, he did recognise most as Platonic Solids. "I thought you said this was just a board game, Pidge..." He examined a dice with 10 sides, or so it seemed at a cursory glance.

"Tabletop Roleplaying Game." Pidge corrected, "They were, in fact, my exact words..." She pointed with a heavy wad of paper from behind her hefty wood-effect screen. It was quite the intimidating piece, three panels depicting a Red Dragon on one side, a Golden Dragon on the other and a wizard wielding dark magic gesturing to an army of minions in the middle. Mostly though, it was there to shield her rolls from the eyes of the other players, as well as provide quick reference for her. Not that she would need them. "You're sat just there." She instructed.

Shiro looked at his own dice, black and gold, with equal confusion. The sheet of paper before him yielded no clues, "Lysander My... Thrill Beard...?" He read aloud, "Male Dwarf Cleric of... Aaa ooo? Level 5..." He smiled nervously, "Strength... Dexterity... Armour Class... Passive Perception... Pidge...is any of this supposed to mean anything to me...?"

"It gets easier as it goes along." Pidge assured him, "Best way to learn is to play. All you need to know right now is you're a good and holy dwarf, you cure the sick, aid the weary and guide the lost. You can call on your faith to harm or repel the undead. You're a priest, but don't forget your Hammer isn't just for show. Your family name is pronounced Meethrill Beard, y'know, like the metal? Well, the fictional metal... Knowing how to pronounce your family name is important to Dwarfs, very big on the whole ancestors thing. Oh, also, your deity is pronounce Ay – Oh just like the two letters. Don't want your Cleric committing blasphemy!" She grinned happily. "Oh, and if you're confused by any of your spells, just ask!"

Shiro nodded, still worriedly looking over the mess of numbers and words on his sheet. "Ok...sure..."

Hunk entered, baring freshly made snacks piled high on several plates. Though he soon realised there was to be very little space to put them. With a frown, he started to set each down on the four corners of the table. Finally, Hunk sat himself down opposite Shiro with a grin and a mouthful of fruity pastry treat. Well, pastry? It was close, but not quite perfectly the same recipe. Hunk had named the flaky treat Spastry.

"I'd better not see your sheet covered in crumbs, Hunk..." Pidge's icy tone shot him a warning.

Hunk brushed the crumbs away. "You won't see a thing!" He cheerfully responded. It wasn't long however before his face mirrored Shiro's. A look somewhere in between utter horror and mind bending confusion. "If I'm an Archer, how come I don't have... Y'know... Archery as a skill...?" Hunk pointed to a list of skills on the right hand side of his sheet.

"Archery is a combat proficiency, not a skill." Pidge responded absent mindedly, "Combat proficiencies are calculated by a combination of your Base Attack Bonus, Primary Score for the weapon type – in this case dexterity, Feats, Racial abilities, Perks, Quirks, Advantages, Disadvantages where applicable, Buffs and any magical or non magical equipment bonuses that may or may not apply..." She rattled her explanation off mechanically, "Don't worry though, all the information you need is on the right hand side under the listing Elvish +2 Composite Great Bow."

Hunk's eyes were glazed over.

"Just worry about playing your character, I'll tell you what to roll when and if you need to roll it..." Pidge sighed, she could already feel that this was going to be a very long night.

"So..." Hunk frowned, "I'm like a female elf Robin Hood with a pet bear...?"

"It's as good a parallel as any." Pidge agreed, "Though think Strider too, maybe a little bit of Dutch from Predator...?" She paused, realising what she'd said, "Hunk...please don't do the voice..."

"Geht to dah choppah!" Was Hunk's overzealous response. "Wahrhoo!" A very long night indeed.

"When I made you that character..." Pidge sighed dejectedly, "I didn't expect that Fallen-Leaf Gladerunner, a female Elf Ranger was going to sound like that..."

"My bear needs a name..." Hunk ignored Pidge's complaints, scrawling down Mr. Bahdneuz T. Bear on it's sheet.

Allura and Coran were next to enter. The Princess daintily took her seat at the opposite end from Pidge, Coran settled himself beside Hunk. Almost unseen, both had grabbed and begun demolishing a fruity spastry snack. Whilst Coran examined his sheet, his frown growing ever more concerned, Allura was contenting herself to examine her very sparkly pink dice.

"What marvellous objects your latest project has produced, Pidge..." The Princess was fondling a 20 sided dice, "I wonder if it might also be able to produce jewellery...? Would that not be wonderful?"

Pidge shrugged, "You find me a design, I could probably whip something up..." The look of utter joy of Allura's face needed a distraction. Thankfully, the prodding of Coran's outstretched finger beside her provided it. "Yes...?" She turned to him.

"It says here that I'm a Human..." Coran mused, "Can't I be an Altean instead...?"

"Alteans don't really exist in this fictional reality..." Pidge began.

"Well, can't you just... Make it up?" Coran smiled hopefully, "I mean, really all you need to do is add about... 20 or so to all of these scores, maybe a smidge more? That'd be about right I think..."

Pidge shook her head, "Sorry Coran, part of the game is dealing with challenges. In fact it's a pretty big part..."

"Could I at least have some better armour...?" His expression was disturbing. Lips quivering, eyes bulging, tongue darting.

"Coran!" Allura chided, "Do not use the Hanbar Pout on Pidge. We have already established it does not work on humans. It is in fact a far lesser version of their own similar mind control ability, the Puppy Dog Eyes..."

Coran sighed, "Yes Princess..."

Allura nodded, smiled and returned her attention to Pidge, "I must apologise for my query, but I understand that for the duration of the game, I am a Male and a Barbarian by the name of Karg... From our brief discussion, I understand the numbers and the many sided shapes interact to guide our progress in the shared story... Though, I am at a loss as to what an...Orc is."

Should have expected that, Pidge realised too late. Perhaps Human for Allura would have been easier... But Orc Barbarian is just so... Archetypal... "Ummm... Ok, imagine they're...broader than Shiro..."

"Goodness!" Allura gasped, "That is very broad indeed..."

Shiro kept an appreciative smile hidden. "Why do I need a collapsible 10ft pole...?" He mumbled, examining his sheet.

"In your case, you're about seven foot tall, even your muscles have muscles... Greyish green skin...sloping brows, protruding lower jaws with two tusks..." Pidge paused, "Aggressive, brutish, also honourable... They're not necessarily always bad but they believe in solving things through strength rather than words."

"I see..." Allura nodded, considering the information given and her sheet carefully, "My intelligence score is lower than what appears to be the average of the table... Am I... Stupid...?"

Pidge gave Allura a curious look, she was picking things up faster than anyone else at the table, "Well, Karg is of below average Intelligence, yes... Though that's not to say you can't have a brutal cunning about you. Can't read though, but that's more of a class thing...a Barbarian thing rather than an Orc thing..."

Allura smiled brightly, "Thank you for the explanation, I shall do my best to be within the character..." She closed her eyes, scrunching up her face in concentration.

"Slightly better sword...? A nice fancy hat...?" Coran pleaded, "I'll give you less combat drills..."

"Check your equipment, Coran. Glorious Galan already has a splendid tricorn hat." Pidge glared, "And I will not be bribed so easily..." Her expression turned to a smile. "You'll need to do much better."

"Done!" Princess Allura suddenly declared her voice oddly muffled and awkward. The table turned to face her. They stared. "I must confess, the tusks may take some getting used to..." She tapped her now quite broad grey-ish-green-ish chin, smiled as best her new 'tusks' would allow. She had placed the slightly crunchier ends of a spastry treat at each corner of her lips. "It is rare to use my abilities for such frivolity! I must do this more often..." Something about the jarring wrongness of her sing-song voice and the newly Orcish exterior caused the entire table to feel a part of their minds break.

Pidge nodded, clearly impressed, "Well..." She took a small red circular token from a pot behind her screen, "That kind of dedication deserves an advantage roll token..." She passed the plastic marker over, "You can exchange it to re-roll any dice once and take the best result of the two..." Allura smiled in thanks. Before he could ask, "No Coran, you can't have one, they're earned." The elder Altean pouted and grumbled beneath his breath.

"Are we actually expecting Lance...?" Hunk queried, "I figured he'd brush this off as too nerdy..."

"He'd better be along..." Pidge grumbled, "I didn't print that character and those dice off for nothing... And I'll have to adjust every encounter for a party of four... That'll just slow things down..."

"I'll make it an order if necessary..." Shiro assured the table, "Team Bonding is a vital part of our mission."

Lance, they all assumed fashionably late, sauntered in with a suitably attention grabbing swagger and a A4 black folder tucked beneath his arm, "Have no fear, your Lance is.." He paled, looking at Allura, fighting back the urge to cry out in shock, "A-Allura...you do something with your hair...?"

"Not Allura!" The princess responded, her voice needed a lot of work, "Me Karg of North Wilds!"

Lance smirked, "I didn't realise we needed costumes..."

"Sit down." Pidge commanded, "We can get started at last."

Lance playfully ruffled her hair, "Chill Pidge, I was just finishing off my character..." He sat himself at the last seat of the table, "Do I smell new shampoo...?" He queried, "Or is that just these fruit rolls...?"

Pidge regarded him with the level of scrutiny a biologist would a new species, "Sure, it's that one you insisted I needed with the conditioner..." Idly flicking at a length of her hair.

"I thought it felt softer..." Lance smiled.

"Yeah... I guess it does a little, it's kinda nice..." She admitted, "I always figured that conditioner was was just snake oil..." She caught herself mid beauty conversation and stopped herself, "Lance...what do you mean by finishing off your character...?"

He frowned, "Making sure I've got all my equipment, adding up the bonuses right..." He produced Pidge's phone, "Lucky you had some digital copies on here or I'd have completely gotten my level 5 ability wrong. What else would I mean?"

Pidge's frown matched his and deepened, "I already made you a Pre-Made..."

Lance snorted a dismissive laugh, "Yeah, if I wanted to be bored stupid. Sorry, but I am not playing a Sword and Board Fighter, Pidge. Might keep the sheet for hireling though... I think I qualify for Leadership, but I wanted to run it by you before assuming. So many extras can get a handful..." Cracking open his folder, he presented an almost immaculate looking sheet to her, followed by two additional pages. "You can check it out if you like, the only thing I wasn't sure of was if we were using Standard, Heroic or Legendary Array for Stats, so I made all three just in case. Changes a few feat selections here and there but nothing major. I mean, surely you don't roll for stats...? That'd be as crazy as using THAC0..." He looked to the group. "There something in my teeth...?"

The entire table stared at him dumbfounded, none more so than Pidge. "Ok... so, two questions... Who are you? And what have you done with Lance?" Hunk demanded.

"Still Lance and...I probably shouldn't say what I've done with myself in polite company..." That earned him a groan from the table as a whole. The Blue paladin grinned, "I've got an Uncle back home, friend of the family kind of Uncle. He was crazy into all this stuff. Used to run adventures for the family and some of the other local kids." His attention turned to the ever more confused looking Pidge who was staring at one section, "That one's from Unfettered..."

"I know it's from Unfettered Feats Four..." Pidge interrupted, "I also know this weird half bard half rogue comes from Bardic Badassery... I'm just shocked that you do... And you're sure you're going to be ok being a mostly support class...? Your combat ability is pretty lame, at least until you hit level 8 with the Resonating Blade ability..." She handed him back the sheets, "Though I do like the weapon you've customised... We're actually using the Legendary array, so ignore these two... And no to Leadership for now, for exactly the reasons you already mentioned..."

Lance smiled, "That's cool. No Leadership, I guess I'll just take Skill Focus: Perform Violin. Legendary array actually evens out my combat ability a little. I just wanted to make the best Diplomancer I could. Combat's fun and all, but it's nicer to have options."

"Ok... Well, this is certainly interesting new information..." Pidge nodded thoughtfully, "Nice that someone will occasionally want to talk rather than kill everything... Also kinda glad I don't need to teach everyone at the table every little thing... "

"I know. You looked a little nervous. No worries, Pidge. I'll support the party and my DM..." One of his warm just so smiles caught her a little off guard, only made worse by his softly intoned, "That sound good, Dungeon Master?"

"Karg want smash!" Allura demanded, "Puny enemies of Karg shall suffer!"

"You'll give them the choppah!" Hunk added. "Enough talk!"

"Glorious Galan is on the hunt for wealth and glory!" Coran seemed to only be a more brooding intense version of his own voice.

"May...uh...Ao guide us...?" Shiro shrugged.

Lance nudged him, "Loosen up and try Scottish. Everyone knows Dwarves are best when they're Scottish..."

Shiro reluctantly nodded, "Aye lad!" He instantly smiled, "The blighters 'n' beasties oot there willnae stand a chance!" He laughed, "Hey, you're right, Lance... That really works..." He was very thankful to have known a very vocal Scot back in his Garrison days. He never thought the slang would come in useful before now.

"Lance? Ooo iiiz...? Bonjour..." Lance's cheesy French accent made the table all chuckle, "Leon DeBleu, at your service..."

"Leon DeBleu...?" Pidge scoffed.

"Names are hard, ok...?" Lance pouted.

Pidge breathed in again, "Alright... The five of you are already established adventurers, but until now you've never crossed paths... Following your latest adventure, you find yourself in a tavern in the small village of Holmdell..."

The rain pelted heavily against the thatched roof of the inn. A musty smell hanging in the air, wet dog, stale tobacco, the ripe tang of peasant armpits and dirt, everywhere dirt. Patrons gather gloomily in some corners, rowdily in others. The village's population are mostly humans with a few half elves and half orcs among them. Night draws in, the darkness only fought back by the candles and sputtering torches within the wooden building. Amongst the usual serfs, dirt farmers and vagabonds, five individuals stand out like dragons among cattle.

Propping up the bar, a beautiful Elf with braided blonde hair, she is garbed in a simple grey cloak with masterfully crafted leather armour. Her quick forest green eyes dart about the bar for any possible threat, one hand upon a flagon of beer the other never far either from her scabbards or her ornate yet deadly longbow. Her mind however is set very much upon her beloved animal companion, a sturdy black bear forced to wait outside in what is not far off a storm. Sat at one of the many heavy tables, a bellowing Orc in fur armour has challenged the most burly of the farmhands to arm wrestling, a small pile of copper and silver piling beside him. The heavy set brute's grey-green skin is covered in a latticework of every manner of scar imaginable, from a raw looking burn to a canine bite mark. All his hair has been meticulously or else violently removed, His garish pink dyed armour draws a lot of odd attention from the patrons, his steely black eyes return their gazes with fury.

"Pink is colour of death in North Wilds..." The Orc growls with a feminine tone that nobody would have ever expected of him, "Karg can show if small men wish...?" More to the point, nobody was going question the matter and risk angering Karg.

A raven-haired Dwarf sits quietly with a pipe in one large hand and his holy book in the other. He knows the words well, but keeps them always in his heart. Under his simple brown clerical vestments, a hefty set of solid steel Dwarven full plate armour accented with bronze. He glances over his pince-nez reading spectacles with heavy lidded smoke-grey eyes. Eyes that have seen far too much. He furrows his heavy brow, twitching his immaculately plaited beard as he blows a smoke ring, then returns to his book and freshly placed mug of mead. What caught his eye was a man who seems part splendid matador and part steel siege engine. A shock of fiery red hair upon his head and a hearty laugh to his lips, the golden skinned human has clearly spent a great deal of time polishing his blueish-silver mythril breastplate and matching gauntlets. His carved roaring lion pauldrons were pristine. Beneath the armour, a finely pressed red and white dress uniform of a kingdom nobody recognised. Slung about his shoulders a heavy crossbow and a steel kite shield. Strapped, sheathed, squirrelled and otherwise secreted about his person, melee weapons from a simple stout club to a one and half handed broadsword.

"Ten!" The armour-clad human declared, "No, twenty... Thirty monstrous...ummm..." His knowledge of local fauna failed him, "Gully Dwarfs! Yes! Came slavering and growling toward me! I held them off with my halberd, but as the beasts came closer, I had no choice but to resort to fisticuffs! Glorious Galan you see, is never caught off guard!" His tale was impressing one or two younger farmhands, though he was largely – much to his obvious dismay – being ignored.

Sat in one darkened corner was a half elven man, tanned, slight of frame and dressed in the type of blue silken courtesan's outfit that only a select few could pull off without looking entirely absurd. He was clearly of some financial means, given his outfit and his exceptionally ornate musical instrument, a violin that was a piece of darkwood art, chestnut browns to whorls of ebony and the unmistakable hum of magic about it. Perhaps the lost son of a noble or simply a handsome man of expensive taste. The smiling man, with placid hazel eyes, a short brown ruffle of hair and a restless day's worth of stubble was content to simply allow his breathtakingly intricate violin's jaunty rhythm fill the air of the bar as he worked a curious looking bow to the strings. All who heard it felt their spirits slightly uplifted, the cares of the day and even the rain outside fading away.

As night drew darker, the villagers begin a slow, groggy and in many cases swaying walk into the darkness and back to their long suffering significant others. The barmaid, a pretty yet homely Half-Orc made a call for last orders. The five strangers to the village realise that between the rain and their recent day's journey, they are left with little choice but to hope the inn has enough rooms to accommodate them all for the evening. They approach the bar together, cautious of each other. The first to break the silence between them is Karg.

"Pretty part-Orc! Give Karg sleep!" Karg slaps a handful of copper and silver to the bar, "Karg pay good!"

The barmaid, at first horrified and then furious, glares at Karg, "What kind of establishment do you think this is...?"

"Dear Lady..." The softly spoken musician interjects, smiling cordially, "Leon DeBleu, weaver of tales and singer of songs, I am most honoured to make your acquaintance... Miss...?" His eyes smoulder.

"M...M...Marceline..." The barmaid uneasily stammers.

"Miss Marceline... What Karg here meant, yet put so indelicately is that he is but a weary traveller, looking to rent one of your rooms. I am certain he did not mean to imply that you are a lady of...dubious employment..."

"Goodness!" Karg held a hand to his mouth with a gasp, "I had not even considered..."

"So, if we may, my dear, begin this conversation once again...?" His eyes had not once left hers, "Dear Madame, will you help a weary traveller to his slumber...? How much for bed and board for the night...?"

Marceline stared silently, face turning a subtle shade of red.

"Ummmm..." Glorious Galan poked the barmaid on the forehead. "Is this supposed to happen...?"

"Karg... Break pretty part-Orc...?"

"Marceline...?" Leon ventured, "Ummmm... Pidge...?"

From across the bar, the green steely eyes of an Elven Ranger take aim. Held between thumb and finger, a spastry treat. She hurled the confection across the bar...

...and it's crispy outer coating smushed into Pidge's forehead. "Hey! What the Quiznak Hunk!?"

"Bullseye..." The yellow paladin smirked.

Shiro shot him a warning glare.

"Pidge, are you alright...?" Lance, a genuine tone of concern in his voice almost pleaded, "You kinda spaced out on us there..."

"You got fruit goo on my glasses, you ass!" Pidge grumbled, wiping them clean would be a waste of time, so she set them aside. "You'd better hope Olkari Strawberry doesn't stain glass... And yes, Lance, I'm fine... Don't be so over dramatic..." She cleared her throat, "Where were we...? Oh, right... Leon had just negotiated a room... Ummm... Marceline nods, the misunderstanding now cleared up. However, suddenly..."

Author's Note: This was supposed to be – as some of you already know – an entry for the Voltron Positivity Event that ended up taking on a life of it's own. Now, this is still far from complete. Not long after finding out the staff have already been working on a superior version, I found the wind knocked a little out of my sails when it comes to wanting to write this. In fact the sails got struck by lightning and burned to a crisp. So, I figured I can at least get some of it out in the wild. Maybe some positive feedback can encourage me to believe this is not a wasted effort...? Still excited to see the official episode of course! Though in the meantime, maybe someone can get a kick out of this inferior take on the idea. Hope you enjoyed!