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There is this person I once played D&D 4e alongside, long ago. By chance, I stumbled across him online and caught up. This person has been wanting to vent for a while about his side hustle as a paid 5e DM, and, for whatever reason, thought I would be a good listener.

At some point, I asked if I could share his story online, publicly. He agreed (citing that he highly doubts that anyone involved checks RPG-related Discord servers, subreddits, and such), under the condition that there would be no identifying information, no direct quotes aside from small phrases, no direct price tags, nobody trying to contact him, and so on. I have already run my posts by him.

I have no way of verifying if any of this is true. He could be fabricating everything. In turn, you have no way of verifying my own side. I suppose that is just how things go. I am sharing this story simply because I find it interesting.

• The DM has been doing this for nearly a decade, usually thrice a week, ~6 hours a session, in-person. He started off charging (X) USD per hour (for the whole group, not for each player), but gradually increased his price to ~3(X). The DM is aware that this is very high, but he gets away with it by relentlessly networking across a certain area in the U.S. where upper-middle-class 20- to 30-somethings are common. One current group, consisting of nobodies in the right-wing grifter sphere (who still manage to cough up money anyway), the DM charges ~5(X); he tells them that they are getting a premium experience, even when the DM is doing nothing particularly different.

• His clients are almost all white or white-passing, upper-middle-class, 20- to 30-something men. The DM freely admits that there is selection bias. This is probably the only demographic willing to pay such high prices for someone to run a game for them. Sometimes, someone brings a girlfriend, who may or may not play.

• The DM has run for 200+ players over the course of dozens of campaigns. No campaign has reached a proper conclusion.

• Group sizes are usually six or seven (I know, I know) players, but one or two almost always ghost on the session without sending advance notice. Players frequently show up for game night drunk, high, or both. Every single game thus far has ended with a critical mass of players ghosting and never showing up again. Fortunately, the DM insists on collecting payment beforehand; and yes, these players are indeed willing to just throw money away.

• Yes, many players mention Critical Role, Brennan Lee Mulligan, etc.

• The stereotypes of 5e-only players are true ~99% of the time. They either think that "D&D" is the only RPG in the world, or that it would be such a hassle to learn another system. They do not know how any of the rules work, they do not bother to roleplay, and they do not remember anything about the last session. (If you know how the rules work, you roleplay, or you remember events from the last session, then you are in the top ~1% of players.) They show up mostly for the very loose idea of "playing D&D" and having fun with friends.

• ~99% of the time, a player declares their turn in combat to be "I attack" or "I cast a spell" without specifying anything more than that (aside from the occasional "I cast fireball!" or "I cast lightning bolt!" even though the character could not possibly have the spell). The DM asks them to roll a d20; on anything but a natural 1 or 2, he tells them "You hit!" and the player gets excited. The DM does not ask them to roll damage. Sometimes, if he feels like the players will not be too dismayed, the DM tells a player who rolls in the 3 to 5 range that "You miss. This guy is really [tough/fast]!"

• The DM does not bother tracking anyone's hit points, and just tells players things like "You take some damage," "You are close to dying," or "You finally beat him. Tell us how you do it!"

• Players tend to panic and think that they are in a dire situation the moment the DM informs them that they take even "some damage." The tension ramps up even further whenever the DM says, "You are close to dying."

• A non-negligible number of players are really sweaty tryhards who know the ins and outs of damage math and tracking hit points... in video games. When it is time for "D&D," they simply turn off their brain, and all damage and all hit points are suddenly imaginary.

• Yes, players really do go crazy when someone rolls a natural 1, expecting something goofy to happen. They cheer when someone rolls a natural 20, expecting something absolutely epic. The DM indulges them.

• Players really do not know how ability checks, skills, or saving throws work. They get antsy if the DM tries to talk about the rules as actual rules, so he has learned to simply never bring up the rules to begin with.

• Maybe the archetypal tiefling bard is popular in other communities, but not this one. Here, it is mostly bros playing "male human [fighter/barbarian/paladin]," with the occasional wizard if someone is feeling spicy.

• Players love to be showered with magic items that simply sound cool from vague descriptions, even though the DM never actually explains their mechanics (because there are none). Swords brimming with flame, frost, or lightning are usually smash hits.

• Since players will seldom remember anything from previous sessions, the DM just randomly throws the party into wacky action scenes, often as paper-thin as "You are in the king's castle when all of a sudden, a dragon attacks!" He does not even bother trying to maintain a consistent setting, whether published or homebrew.

• The DM frequently gets told that he is the "best DM ever!" even though he is fairly sure that these people have played under nobody else.

• There is minimal demand for non-5e DMs. If you want another RPG, look elsewhere.

Make of this what you will.

The Scars on the Dovahkiin (This is from a Skyrim-based DnD campaign)

“How’d you get that scar?” I asked, pointing to her chest. An “X” shaped scar, white and pale against her dark Orsimer skin, was right under her bosom. She placed a hand over it. “That one,” she murmured, trying to remember.

We were in White River, having a swim. As she was discarding her armor, I couldn’t help but stare at the many scars that marked her body. It was more marked up than her Skyrim map; she was constantly updating though there was hardly any room left for markings.

“I want to say, Bonestrewn Crest,” she finally answered. “I walked up the stairs, following a fox, getting ready to kill the dragon at the top. As I walked, I got blasted by ice from a soul gem trap to my left. Hit me right in the chest and knocked me back down the steps. My chest plate broke, of course. But I was alright. Just unconscious for a few hours.”

“You’re lucky no animals got to you,” I said, impressed by the story.

“I know. Honestly, I’m lucky the dragon didn’t get me.”

She picked up a small bottle from a pocket; she drank its contents with a sigh of relief and tossed it on the ground. I noticed a dribble of remains. It had a violet color and smelled odd but still familiar, and I nearly reached for a taste but restrained myself. She stripped down to her tiny underclothes: a sheer bra and thong-styled underwear. It looked like she had made it from a Forsworn's outfit. She probably had. I stayed under my cloak to keep my skin from the sun, but I still stepped into the water and sat on a rock, watching the flow take leaves and flowers away. She slowly walked next to me; her legs, darkened with bruises, disappeared into the water.

How is she still alive, I thought to myself.

“That one?” I pointed to what looked like a crater just below her belly button. I looked to her back to see that whatever hit her, it came out the other side.

“Ah, yes,” she said with a grimace. “I wasn’t faring too well against a mage once. Ice spike after ice spike came flying my way.” I winced at the thought. As someone who regularly sent ice spikes into people and animals, I didn’t even want to imagine how it felt to take one. I stared at that scar, positive that she’d never be able to bear children. Would she even want to, leading the lifestyle she did?

“And these?” I got close to her and felt her left wrist where a jagged mark was.

“From, um, assassination…attempts, that is,” she said, moving away to face me.

“People have tried to assassinate you?”

“Yes, all the time. I get Dark Brotherhood assassins trailing me in the woods around Falkreath almost every time I’m in the area. And amateurs, too. They’re pretty sloppy, the amateurs. They usually have the writs on their person with the name of the person who wants me dead.”

“Have you killed any of them in retaliation?”

“Yes. But I prefer to just waltz into their towns and say hi. Some stare at me like I’m a ghost and others act perfectly normal.”

“Sounds amusing.”

“I get my amusements where I can.” She dipped her head into the water and came back up, her thin black hair sticking to her neck. “Such an interest in my body,” she said, smirking at me. “You know, if you want to really get to know me that way, you don’t have to ask all these roundabout questions. We both know that eventually, you’ll be pointing to my chest, my rear, and eventually my—”

“This isn’t like that!” I insisted. She laughed, echoing off nearby mountains and scaring away a few goats who had come to get a drink. I shook my head at her. “But really,” she said, “why the interest?”

“I’ve never seen anyone with so many battle scars on their body,” I said. “Who is alive, that is.”

“Coming from a Nord, that means a lot,” she said sincerely.

“How is it that you’ve survived this long?”

“Luck and skills, I guess.” She examined her own body, her all-dark eyes scanning her scars as one did with their own hand. “Perhaps mostly luck. There had been quite a few times I didn’t think I’d make it. People tell me I make it look easy. None of it has been easy. And I think that one day the toll will take my body from me. Or me from my body. Whichever comes first.”

I watched her as she spoke, unsure of how to respond. As a vampire, I never pondered death much. I couldn’t imagine being a mortal in her place.

She got up and walked deeper into the water to swim. I simply sat and watched her body, so bruised and battered, and by its look, on the brink of death.

My sister did such an amazing job of capturing all the characters! I really love her style, and this is probably her best piece yet. Because I can't resist sharing about that, here are the characters from far left going clockwise:

Ruvinath: A pacifist frost elf who recently discovered his magical "always freezing cold" disease is actually an ancient lich's phylactery that is passed from elf to elf. He is an Ardent Uncarnate, originally hoping to shed his ailing body and the sickness along with it. Now he's unsure if it will work.

(Skipping the triceratops for now)

Petroc: A Forged Cheliaxan butler. Was created to serve a truly evil noble couple, but they have since been slain and he joined up with the party who slew them. Very proper and polite, but does not hesitate to call out bad behavior.

Jolagh: A half orc Investigator who is searching for the origin of his people. Very intellectual and problem-focused. Currently also trying to chase down his not-girlfriend who has been possessed by an ancient Blighter (the class, not the insult).

Kazak (and Guineo): A half orc islander ranger. On a quest to slay a great beast and prove his worth to his people. Also recently discovered a latent psionic ability that threatens to eat his consciousness in his sleep if he does not take the proper precautions. His pet toucan Guineo loves shiny things and went on an entire soloquest in the feywild that left him part corgi.

Indigo: A tiefling Bloodrager who was raised dinosaurs. The triceratops in the upper left is his sister Bluehatched. Does not speak common much, so it's tough for him to really engage in conversation, but he cares deeply about his family and friends. Also recently realized he is a reincarnation of a Fleshwarper. Don't know what's going on there, yet.

Asoye: A lizardfolk Alchemist who is high 90% of the time. Kazak's "uncle". Actually the whole party's "uncle." Loves to share his bounty of feel-good medicines, and takes nothing seriously. Mostly. Definitely nothing serious going on here.

Eggbört cannot remember when, or even how, he came to be. He simply knows that he is. Yet despite his mysterious origins, he has never lacked purpose. If there is one thing Eggbört believes with unwavering certainty, it is that he was placed upon this world to be a beacon of hope for those in need.

Only a fool would mistake his hard shell for a reflection of his character, and an even greater fool would take his sunny-side disposition and soft core as signs of weakness. Beneath his cheerful smile lies an unshakable resolve, and when hardship cracks against him, it is rarely Eggbört who breaks.

No matter the trials he faces, Eggbört always carries a smile, comforted by the thought that when the adventure is over and the dust has settled, he can return home to the love of his darling wife, Shellby.

I’ve started playing online DnD, and there is this player that I’m starting to suspect (casting spells he shouldn’t have etc etc) and I’ve talked to the DM and the player is her boyfriend, so I cant really argue. I can’t/ don’t want to leave the table for various reasons, and I want to talk to the DM and tell her to make rolling under a camera or in the website mandatory, but other than that, am I being paranoid? I know statistic sizw of 20 is very small, but all above 16 is a bit too much, right?

Edit: all rolls were higher than 23, with one being 21. According to our level and our stats (none above 18), its almost 20 rolls with none lower than 16.

Edit 2: This has happened enough times for me to decide to count and note hos rolls

Edit 3: we are level 4

*NOTE*, the roll mentioned in the title, was NOT my daughter’s first roll.

So, for context, my daughter (10f) has been listening to me (39m) and my son (17m) talk about D&D for a while. She’s been reading the “young adventurers guid, and has been adamant that we needed to teach her how to play.
This past weekend, the three of us sat down to play “Lost Mines of Phandelver” using the pre-Gen characters until she finishes making her own character.

Start the session, find the horses, and get attacked by the goblins.

Roll initiative: Gob, Daughter, Son, Gob, Gob, Gob.
Very first roll is the goblin launching an arrow at my son’s Halfling Rogue.

Natural 20.

Roll the D6 for damage (1D6+2), it’s a 6.
First attack of the game my sons Rogue (9HP) took 14 damage.

A few failed attacks from both the goblins and my daughter, she finally nailed one for 11 and took it out. Her next turn she decided to barter with the remaining goblins, her fine clothing for them to bugger off. DC of 15 (5 per goblin) she rolled a 16 and it worked.

TL;DR:
Son knocked out in first attack thanks to critical damage.
Daughter ends the encounter by bartering with the remaining goblins.

A very interesting introduction to D&D for her 🤣

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Process Video: https://youtu.be/y5Lku79CDiE

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Concepts for a genesis in my world. Essentially the Wood Elves of my world. Tattoos are a big part of their culture. They share a tarnished and brutal history with the dryads. The dryads believe the Arbrels betrayed them.

So, I’ve played dnd for about 10 years now. Many, many games. However, I have one cliche I always follow. Every character, all of them, have been based on a three days grace song. I have close friends I have played with for years, none of them have noticed. I really just wanna see the communities opinions on this lol. Here are some examples:

Aasimar Bloodhunter: Fallen angel

Goliath Giant Barbarian: Riot

Yuan-Ti Abberant Sorcerer(Strixhaven game): The good life

Kobold Scion: ironically, the mountain

So reddit community what are your thoughts on this ?