Chapter 19
nineteen
. . .
Nerd Church and Other Unsafe Intimacies
HALSTON
Oliver’s bar is closed to the public, which means Saints Dev plays a bard; Lisa plays a human paladin named Sister Mara who carries a sword, a ledger, and a very low tolerance for nonsense.
Oliver refuses to make a character. “I’m hosting,” he says.
I point at him. “You’re the tavern keeper.”
He freezes. “I’m what?”
“The tavern keeper.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I own a tavern in real life.”
“You own a bar.”
“Close enough.”
Dev gasps. “Oliver, your character can be grumpy but secretly helpful.”
Oliver’s glare could kill a weaker man.
Dev adjusts his cape. “Or not so secretly.”
Warren looks at the empty character sheet in front of him.
“You don’t have to play,” I assure him.
His eyes find mine.
“I wasn’t going to force you.”
“I know.”
He looks back at the sheet. “What would be useful?”
I pause. “Useful?”
“To the group.”
Marley slowly turns her head toward me.
“This man just asked what class has labor value,” Dev whispers to Lisa.
Lisa says, “Cleric.”
I say, “Fighter, maybe. Or cleric. Or wizard if you want structure, which you do, because you’re you.”
Warren looks at the options. “What’s a ranger?”
I nearly choke. “Oh, absolutely not.”
His brow creases. “Why?”
“Because if you play a ranger, you will spend the entire campaign correcting my forest ecology.”
“I can do that without playing one.”
“See? This is why.”
He studies the sheet again. “What class handles logistics?”
Marley collapses on the table as Dev whispers, “I love him.”
Oliver sighs. “This is overstimulating.”
Lisa stands and leans over the table, pointing to something on Warren’s paper. “Make a quartermaster.”
I stare at her. “That’s not a class.”
“It should be.”
Warren looks interested.