yourplayersaidwhat:

I will 100% understand if y’all don’t find this funny, but every gamer I’ve told this story to has laughed, so here you go, but I’d better set the scene.

The date is September, 1979. The place, meeting rooms above the Student Union of a university that shall be nameless. I am a femme-presenting skinny little white girl freshman and this is my first Saturday at college. Making a good faith effort to come out of my high school shell, I have looked over the announcements of group meetings and found a notice that players for fantasy role-playing games should meet in this room at this time. I have no idea what a role-playing game is, but if it’s fantasy I’m game to check it out. I am the only female in the room. Everyone is excited because the AD&D Dungeon Master’s Guide has just come out (yup, the one with the efreet and nearly-naked magic-user babe on the cover) and two people had acquired them. I have no idea what’s going on, but roll the dice (4d6, drop the lowest) that are put into my hand and note down the numbers (in order as rolled) as instructed. I wind up with a high score in Dex, which I’m told makes a good thief, and when asked what race I wanted, I asked what my choices were. I was told that elves, half-elves, dwarfs, humans, and halflings made good rogues. 

Me: Okay, I’ll be a dwarf.

Name Withheld to Protect the Guilty: You’ll have to be male, then. Female dwarfs never leave home.

Me: What?

NWtPtG: Yeah, there’s like, only one born per hundred so they have to stay home making babies and are guarded like diamonds.

Me: That’s dumb.

Fellow Freshman: That’s not how it works! The race would die out.

Argument Erupts, including the inevitable side argument on the burning issue of Female Dwarf Beards; interrupted by Authoritative Senior smoking a pipe and reading DMG, without looking up. “Let her play a female dwarf.”

NWtPtG subsides grumbling, works on his own character while I flesh out and equip Alendil, First Level Dwarf Thief, with black skin, auburn hair, and amber eyes, courtesy of the Arduin Grimoire tables to which someone at the table is devoted. We all gather round the entrance to the dungeon and introduce ourselves. 

NWtPtG: I’m Name Forgotten, I’m a dwarf, and I come up next to you (leaning over to invade my personal space), slide an arm around you, smile (leering), and say: “Stick by me, baby, I’ll take care of you!”

Alendil: (Not me; I was completely unprepared, but the character took over instantly and looked him dead in the eye): My name is Alendil. I’m a lesbian, and if you ever touch me again I will cut off your balls and preserve them in salt.

NWtPtG: (turns beet red, retreats into his own space, as entire room, including the tables where the more seasoned players are already playing, so upward of 20 guys, bursts into laughter at his expense.)

Alendil: (Continues without missing a beat.) I’m an expert treasure finder. Let’s go find some treasure.

This was a very old-school gaming environment, and other women who tried to play in it tended to vanish after a single session, but I never had to deal with another misogynist, lech, or even white knight. Alendil’s collection of the testicles of foes became a running gag. New male players were jokingly warned not to mess with my characters if they wanted to keep all their parts. I don’t remember NWtPtG ever speaking to me again, but I was Queen of the Geeks for the duration of my career at that institution.

Unwanted passes have never been a problem for me in any D&D group. And I have always found that stepping into character immediately, with no shakedown time, came as naturally as breathing.

Thanks, Alendil. You changed my life.