"A pact with a DeMon" -DnD original story

The bookstore was quiet, the kind of place where time slowed down. The smell of paper and ink mixed with the faint scent of coffee drifting from the small café in the corner. Anne stood in front of a packed shelf, her fingers trailing over book spines as she searched.

She was on a mission—finding the Player’s Handbook for DnD. She wanted to finally get serious about game mechanics, she needed a proper ‘education’. But, of course, it was nowhere to be found.

“Figures,” she muttered, pushing her glasses up. “This is what I get for procrastinating.”

“Looking for something?”

A voice, calm but curious, made her turn. Standing a few feet away was a tall guy, probably a few years older than her. Blonde hair, glasses, and dressed in dark techwear that made him look like he belonged in some futuristic city rather than a bookstore. He held a book in one hand, his other tucked into his pocket.

She hesitated. “Yeah, but it’s probably gone.”

He tilted his head slightly. “D&D book?”

That caught her attention. “How’d you guess?”

He shrugged. “You have that look.”

Anne raised an eyebrow. “What look?”

“The ‘I need this book because my campaign depends on it’ look.”

She huffed a laugh. “More like ‘I need this book because I actually want to get my character builds right this time’.”

His expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of interest behind his glasses. “You play often?”

“Not as much as I’d like.” She folded her arms. “Finding a group that actually sticks together is a nightmare.”

There was a pause. Then he said, almost too casually: “I run a campaign.”

That made her blink. “Oh, really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Homebrew world, long-term story, mix of roleplay and combat. I’ve been running it for a while.” He adjusted his glasses slightly. “We just lost a player recently. If you’re looking for a group… we could use another.”

Anne narrowed her eyes, studying him. “You don’t even know if I’d fit in your party.”

His lips twitched slightly. “That’s why we have session zero.”

She considered it. Playing D&D with strangers could be hit or miss, but something about the way he spoke—calm, matter-of-fact, yet completely confident in his world—made her curious.

“…What’s your name?” she looked at him slightly.

“Sebastian.”

“Alright, Sebastian.” She crossed her arms, smirking. “Tell me about this campaign.”

A flicker of something—satisfaction, maybe—crossed his face before he gestured toward the café. “Might take a while. You up for coffee?”

She hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Fine. I expect a good introduction.”

“Fair enough.” he slightly smirked.

And just like that, a simple search for a book turned into something unexpected.

Session Zero: A Deal with the DM

The café was dimly lit, the soft hum of conversation mixing with the clinking of coffee cups. Anne leaned back in her chair, stirring her drink absentmindedly as she listened to Sebastian explain the details of his campaign.

“It’s a high-stakes world,” he said, his voice even, measured. “Decisions matter. Actions have long-term consequences. If you’re looking for a lighthearted, monster-of-the-week type of game… this isn’t it.”

Anne smirked. “So, what you’re saying is—you’re one of those DMs. The ones who make their players suffer.”

Sebastian met her gaze, adjusting his glasses slightly. “I prefer the term immersive.”

She huffed a laugh. “Noted. And your party? What are they like?”

“Diverse.” He rested his elbow on the table, fingers tapping against his cup. “One plays a Paladin, too noble for his own good. Another, a Rogue who trusts no one. We have a Druid who keeps trying to befriend the unfriendable. And then… we had a Sorcerer.” His tone shifted slightly at the last part, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Had?” Anne prompted.

Sebastian exhaled through his nose. “Player had to leave. Life got in the way.”

She nodded in understanding. It happens. Campaigns that were supposed to last years often fell apart in months because real life was the biggest dice roll of all.

“And you’re looking for a replacement.”

“I’m looking for someone who can commit.” His eyes studied her, sharp but unreadable. “If you join, I expect you to stay in game.”

Anne leaned forward, her fingers tapping against the table. “And what makes you think I won’t handle it?”

Sebastian tilted his head slightly, then smirked—not a wide grin, but something small, confident, like he already had an answer before she even asked.

“I think I can handle you whole, through session.”

For the first time, Anne felt slightly thrown off. The way he said it—calm, unwavering—made it feel like both a challenge and a promise. Like he had already decided she was going to stay, and he just needed her to realize it too.

She blinked before letting out a short laugh. “Well, damn. That’s one way to phrase it.”

Sebastian didn’t react much, only took a sip of his coffee, his gaze still locked on hers. “So? Warlock Elf, you said?”

She exhaled, deciding to roll with it. “Yeah. Chaotic, charming, and maybe a little reckless. She’s got a patron, but I haven’t fully fleshed them out yet.”

“Then that’s where we start.”

He pulled out his notebook and a pen, flipping to a blank page.

“Let’s make a deal.”

And just like that, Anne knew—she wasn’t just joining a game. She was stepping into something bigger.