Another Dimension to Dungeons & Dragons

*Spoiler Alert for Dimension 20’s Fantasy High

My face is illuminated by the glow of my laptop screen. It’s late at night — too late. I should probably catch up on sleep. Instead, I find myself captivated by six talented improvisers surrounding a table as one of my favorite storytellers commands attention at the head of the table. Each improviser radiates stress, especially the one who just rose from their seat holding a blue, twenty-sided die. Taking a deep breath, they toss the die onto the table. They lean over to read the number facing up. It’s a twenty. The entire table erupts into a cheer. One improviser jumps to her feet and lets out a guttural screen. Another player’s jaw drops in complete shock. Once the excitement settles, the man at the head of the table collects himself and continues on with the Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) game he is leading. 

I am up late watching the latest episode of Dimension 20, one of my favorite D&D actual play series. D&D is a table-top role-player game, in which each player creates and embodies a unique character throughout the game. Arguably the most important person in any given D&D campaign is the Dungeon Master, or DM, who serves as the lead storyteller; they construct an imaginary world and guide the other players through it. Actual play, also referred to as live play, is a genre of web series or podcast in which people play games such as D&D for a viewer. In my opinion, it’s some of the best media you can consume. 

You can stream Dimension 20 on DropOut TV, a media service created by the people behind CollegeHumor. Brennan Lee Mulligan, a comedian, writer and immensely talented DM, leads a crew of fellow comedians through D&D campaigns that spoof various media genres: Fantasy High imagines The Breakfast Club existing within a high fantasy realm, The Unsleeping City brings magic to New York City, A Crown of Candy depicts an epic battle for power in a world made of food. Each Dimension 20 campaign reimagines what D&D can be, widening the scope of audiences and players who may enjoy this game. I, for example, am not a fan of high fantasy. This fact often shocks people, as D&D stereotypically takes place in a high fantasy setting. How do I enjoy playing a game that is mostly known for its associations with wizards, warlocks and castles when I am not a fan of the genre? Well, I can point to Dimension 20.

I fear I may be getting ahead of myself. It’s sometimes hard for me to articulate the beauty I find in D&D, especially to folks unfamiliar with the game. There are so many misconceptions about it that float around the cultural zeitgeist. With all the overwhelming game mechanics, it can be hard to see the appeal of D&D from an outside perspective, but at its heart, it is about storytelling. Watching a D&D campaign is just like watching a television series. I follow the arcs of characters over multiple episodes. I am shocked by the plot twists. I find myself looking forward to watching an episode of Dimension 20 just like I anticipate a new episode of a network sitcom. 

However, there is one big distinction between watching television and watching a D&D campaign. The stories a D&D campaign tells are not only collaborative but improvised. These complex story arcs are built out of thin air as a DM or a player makes a decision in the fictional world. And the viewer witnesses this decision get made. There are so many moments in a campaign where I see Brennan doing mental gymnastics after a player makes an out-of-pocket decision. 

In a pivotal moment at the end of Fantasy High, the prom night the magical high school had just been interrupted by the arrival of a massive red dragon. He looms over the gym with ruby wings spread wide and fire waiting in his jaws. The rest of the students at the prom ran away. The only people left in the gym are the six characters played by the improvisers at the table. One player, Ally, finds their character lying unconscious on the gymnasium floor. The red dragon, breathing a blast of fire towards their character, depleted their hit points. The situation for the campaign is dire. For a moment, it feels like the good guys might lose. One player gives a nervous laugh. Another hides his head in his hands and braces for the first. Ally has few choices. Either they wait for someone to heal them or die. 

With the other players preoccupied with trying to stay alive, it is unlikely Ally’s character will be rescued. Then, Ally makes the most ridiculous request. “Can I roll for nat 20 and then be alive?” they ask. It’s a one in 20 chance that Ally makes this role, and victory for the teenage heroes of the campaign rests upon that roll. Other players laugh at the absurd ask, but Brennan agrees to the request. Ally lifts the twenty-side die into the air and throws it onto the table before letting out a gasp and screaming, “Nat 20!” They do the improbable and roll a 20. While the table cheers and shouts a few expletives, Brennan sits in astonished silence. This is the type of moment you can only experience through D&D. I got to witness the story building in real time. I watched Brennan have to readjust the story to allow Ally’s character to be alive again. I felt like I was seated at that table, feeling my adrenaline skyrocket. Sure, I was actually under the covers with my laptop, but my heart was beating out of my chest. I am in the room. 

In that room, I have to exercise some creativity. Watching D&D is a little bit like reading a book — There needs to be some suspension of disbelief. In the actual play, I’m watching a two and half hour video of people sitting around a table talking and occasionally rolling a die. I have to imagine what the interactions between characters look like. It’s refreshing to have to use some brainpower to consume media. 

I will be a lifelong D&D fan, even if I have not played in a campaign in a few years. I have so little free time, and I cannot afford to carve three-hour blocks out of my schedule to play D&D. These Dimension 20 campaigns fill the D&D void and let me feel like a part of a campaign. I’m in a life-or-death situation while watching people roll dice on my screen.