This is a scene I wrote in response to a prompt I saw online. Unfortunately I can’t seem to find the original post, it was something along the lines of “write a D&D bar scene where the classes are described like the lunch tables in a high school teen movie”. I hope you enjoy!
Walking into the bar, I felt eyes watching me. The set up was odd; long tables with groups of people huddled together, closed off, separated. The normal air of welcoming that one gets in such places felt cold. I looked around, unsure of where to sit, and saw a tall blonde girl waving me over. I sat down next to her in relief.
“Hi there,” she said brightly, shaking my hand. “You looked lost.”
“I was,” I replied, looking around at the various groups of people. “How come everything is so divided? Who are all these people?”
She snorted as she saw where I was looking. A group of figures in long cloaks or robes of bright colours, murmuring excitedly as they poured over a large book.
“Those,” she said, shaking her head, “Are the wizards. They sit in here most days talking about some dull book or other. They only get interesting when they accidently set the table on fire. I mean,” she added, “They’re good for campaigns. But they’re terrible company.” She gestured to another group, a rowdy bunch drinking vast quantities of cheap ale. Most of them were men, thick-set, broad, and muscular, with impractically large weapons leaning on walls and chairs nearby.
“Those are the barbarians. They think they’re cool, but really all they do is show off their muscles and fight people.” One of them had been stacking a tower of tankards, and it fell over with a crash, eliciting raucous cheers in response. My new friend sighed dramatically, and twisted in her seat to point out another group. Most of them seemed to be tipsy on sweet wine, strumming lutes and sighing over songs. A couple of them were having a heated argument of the benefits of the lute versus the lyre.
“Bards. I mean, come one, what do they even do in an adventuring party? They have, like, no future. Even the clerics,” she gestured to a group of older men in long grey robes. “Are more useful.”
“I’ve never seen things divided by class before,” I said, sipping a beer brought over by the barman. “What about you?”
“Oh, we’re all rangers.”
“I thought rangers were usually, you know…” I searched for the right word.
“Loners?” She asked sarcastically. “Seriously? That’s just a harmful stereotype.”
“Who are over there?” I asked, trying to distract from the awkward moment. A group of people dressed in dark clothes were huddled around a table. Some were gambling, many were cheating at gambling, and most of them were carrying knives.
“Rogues. I wouldn’t hang out with them if I were you. Nearly everything they say is a lie.” She sipped her drink thoughtfully. Another loud cheer came from the barbarians’ table. Now I looked, I recognised another well-armed group as fighters, and people wearing green tunics and copious jewelry as almost definitely druids. One group, however, I couldn’t place.
They were plain, and weren’t talking much; not drawing attention to themselves, almost unnoticed in a corner of the room. I asked the blonde ranger who they were, and she looked up, confused.
“Oh, them?” She said with a shrug. “They’re just the NPCs”.
A Teacup Full of Stories 