How Do I Find a Dungeons & Dragons Group Near
The old road narrowed as it wound its way through the edge of the troll fens.
Most folk hurried through these marshes with their heads down, eager to reach safer ground before darkness settled over the wetlands. But today, the fading sunlight painted the still waters in shades of gold and copper, and even the ancient, twisted oaks seemed content to watch another traveler pass.
The journey had given me plenty of time to think.
I’d been asking the same question for weeks.
“Where do I find a Dungeons & Dragons group?”
Every town seemed to have people who played.
Every village seemed to have stories.
Yet somehow, finding a table always felt harder than learning the rules.
Some travelers spoke of game stores.
Others mentioned libraries.
A few whispered about taverns where adventurers gathered, stories were traded, and strangers became companions.
Curiously, no matter which road I followed or who I asked, every conversation eventually ended the same way.
With a smile.
And the same simple directions.
“If you’re truly looking for your next adventure…”
“You’ll find it at One-Eyed Ethel’s Tavern.”
The road curved gently around one final bend.
Then I saw it.
Nestled beside the old road, where the troll fens finally gave way to firmer ground, stood a weathered timber tavern bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.
Smoke curled lazily from its stone chimney.
Laughter drifted through the open windows.
The comforting aroma of fresh bread, roasting meat, and wood smoke seemed to reach out and welcome every weary traveler who passed.
Above the entrance, an old wooden sign swayed gently in the breeze.
Painted upon it was the smiling face of a halfling woman with a single bright eye. An old leather patch covered the other.
Beneath her portrait, carved into the weathered wood, were the words that had guided me for so many miles.
“One-Eyed Ethel’s Tavern”
I rested my hand on the worn oak door and paused for just a moment.
Something told me that whatever waited on the other side…
…might change far more than where I would spend the night.
Taking a slow breath, I pushed the door open.
Meeting Faunlormic and Nym
The tavern door closed behind me with a satisfying thud.
For a moment, no one seemed to notice I had arrived.
Conversations continued.
Dice rolled across wooden tables.
Someone in the corner cheered while another groaned, apparently the victim of an unfortunate roll.
The place was alive.
Not with chaos…
…but with the comfortable rhythm of old friends sharing stories around a familiar table.
Then I heard a voice.
“Well now…”
It was warm, calm, and carried the easy confidence of someone who had welcomed strangers a thousand times before.
“If those boots could talk, my friend, I’d wager they’d tell a tale worth hearing.”
Standing beside the hearth was a half-elf with kind eyes, silver touched lightly through his deep red hair, and a lute resting comfortably against the back of his chair.
He smiled as though he’d been expecting me.
“Welcome to One-Eyed Ethel’s Tavern.”
“Me name’s Faunlormic McLorn.”
“Come in. The fire’s warm, the stew’s hot, and there’s always room for one more traveler.”
Before I could answer, a much smaller voice drifted from somewhere I couldn’t quite place.
“I’d be careful.”
I looked around.
“I’ve known him for years…”
“…and he still tells terrible jokes.”
A forest gnome slowly appeared where, only a heartbeat before, there had been nothing at all.
He grinned.
“My name’s Nym.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I only use my illusion magic for important things.”
Faunlormic raised an eyebrow.
“Important things?”
Nym nodded solemnly.
“Like making people wonder where their dessert disappeared.”
Faunlormic sighed with the unmistakable expression of someone who had witnessed this sort of thing countless times.
“He’s impossible.”
“And yet…”
Nym interrupted with a grin.
“…I’m usually right.”
For the first time since beginning my journey…
I laughed.
The nervousness I’d carried for miles began to fade.
Answering the Real Question
Faunlormic motioned toward an empty chair beside the fire.
“Sit,” he said with a smile. “A weary traveler should never have to stand while asking an honest question under Ethyl’s roof.”
I lowered myself into the chair as Nym somehow appeared on the table beside me, already helping himself to what I was fairly certain had been someone else’s dessert.
Faunlormic pretended not to notice.
“So then,” he said. “What brings you to our little corner of the world?”
I hesitated.
It suddenly felt like a foolish question.
“I…” I began.
“I’m trying to find a Dungeons & Dragons group.”
“I’ve searched online.”
“I’ve looked through social media.”
“I’ve asked around.”
“But I don’t know where to begin.”
For a moment, Faunlormic simply smiled.
“My friend…”
“You’ve asked the wrong question.”
I blinked.
“I have?”
Nym looked up from his spoon.
“Oh yes.”
“We hear that one all the time.”
I frowned.
“Then… what “is” the right question?”
Faunlormic leaned forward.
“The question isn’t…”
“Where do I find a game?”
He paused just long enough for the tavern to seem unusually quiet.
“The real question is…”
“How do I find people who will become my friends?”
The words settled over the room like the last light of sunset.
Nym nodded.
“Games end.”
“Campaigns end.”
“But the best gaming groups…”
“They keep finding reasons to gather long after the dice have stopped rolling.”
Faunlormic smiled.
“And once you understand that…”
“Finding your next adventure becomes much easier.”
“Because you’re no longer searching for a table.”
“You’re searching for people to share the adventure with.”
“And that’s where the finest stories begin.”
Practical Guidance
I sat quietly for a moment, letting his words settle in.
“All right,” I finally said. “So… where do I begin?”
Faunlormic folded his hands on the table.
“That,” he said with a grin, “is a much better question.”
Nym pointed his spoon at me.
“And one with a much shorter answer.”
The old bard chuckled.
“If I were beginning today, this is the path I would follow.”
He held up a single finger.
“First… I’d start at your local game store.”
“They are more than places to buy dice and books.”
“They are gathering places.”
“Many host weekly games, beginner nights, learn-to-play events, and community bulletin boards where players and Game Masters are looking for one another.”
A second finger.
“If there were’nt a game store nearby…”
I believe my next stop would be the local library.”
“You might be surprised how many libraries host roleplaying games.”
“Or know exactly who does.”
A third finger.
“If I still hadn’t found my people…”
“I’d keep an eye out for local gaming conventions.”
“Even the smallest convention can introduce you to dozens of people who love the same hobby.”
A fourth finger.
“And if the road still seemed lonely…”
“I’d look to the online communities.”
“They’re often the bridge…”
“…that leads you to a table in the real world.”
Nym grinned.
“Besides…”
He waved his spoon around the room.
“You’d be surprised how many of these fine folk were strangers not all that long ago.”
He lowered his voice conspiratorially.
“Now they argue over the rules like family.”
Faunlormic laughed.
“He’s not wrong.”
He looked back at me.
“The important thing isn’t choosing the perfect place to start.”
He paused.
“It’s choosing…”
“…a place to start.”
The tavern seemed unusually quiet for just a heartbeat.
“Any place.”
“Because the place isn’t what changes your life.”
“It’s the first step through its door.”
“And every lifelong gaming group began because one person found a place where they felt welcome enough to ask…”
“Would anyone like to play?”
Nym twirled his spoon between his fingers.
“And don’t forget…”
He swept the spoon around the tavern.
“Not everyone meets at a game store.”
“Or a library.”
“Or a convention.”
He grinned.
“Sometimes…”
“…all it takes is answering a simple notice.”
He winked.
“Or being brave enough to post one.”
Faunlormic smiled.
“The road to friendship begins in many places.”
“The important thing…”
“…is taking that first step.”
What If I Embarrass Myself?
I stared into the dancing flames for a long while before speaking again.
“There is… one more thing.”
Faunlormic waited patiently.
“What if I make a fool of myself?”
“What if I don’t know the rules?”
“What if everyone else already knows what they’re doing?”
I hesitated before asking the question that had been weighing on me all along.
“But…”
“What if everyone thinks I’m stupid?”
“What if I don’t know something everyone else does?”
“What if they laugh at me?”
The tavern grew surprisingly quiet.
Faunlormic smiled.
Not the smile of someone amused…
But the smile of someone who had heard the very same question a hundred times before.
“My friend…”
“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”
I looked up.
“You would?”
He nodded.
“The very first time I sat down at a gaming table…”
“I hadn’t the faintest idea what I was doing.”
Nym nearly snorted into his mug.
“He still doesn’t.”
The tavern erupted with laughter.
Faunlormic pointed toward the little forest gnome.
“You see?”
“After all these years, Nym still reminds me that none of us knows everything.”
Nym gave an exaggerated bow.
“I consider it one of my greatest public services.”
Faunlormic chuckled.
“The finest Dungeon Masters I’ve ever known still look up rules.”
“The greatest storytellers still forget names.”
“The bravest heroes still make spectacularly terrible decisions.”
Nym raised one finger.
“Usually at exactly the wrong moment.”
“Aye,” Faunlormic agreed with a grin.
“And years later…”
“Those are the stories everyone still laughs about.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
“So…”
“I don’t have to be perfect?”
Faunlormic slowly shook his head.
“No.”
“You simply have to be willing.”
“Willing to learn.”
“Willing to imagine.”
“Willing to sit down at a table with people who were beginners once, too.”
He looked around the tavern.
“Look closely.”
I did.
At one table, an older dwarf patiently explained a rule to a young human who had obviously never played before.
Across the room, a Game Master was helping a nervous player fill out a character sheet, smiling as they answered question after question.
No one looked annoyed.
No one looked impatient.
They simply looked… happy to have another traveler at the table.
Faunlormic smiled.
“You’ll discover something about this hobby.”
“Most of us remember our first game.”
“We remember the people who welcomed us.”
“And because of that…”
“We’re usually more than happy to welcome the next newcomer.”
Nym grinned.
“Besides…”
“We all still ask questions.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially.
“Anyone who tells you they know every rule…”
“…has probably forgotten at least three of them before breakfast.”
The tavern erupted into laughter once again.
Even Faunlormic couldn’t hide his smile.
“The dice don’t create perfect stories.”
“They create memorable ones.”
Nym lifted his mug.
“And occasionally complete disasters.”
Faunlormic laughed.
“Those, strangely enough…”
“…often become everyone’s favorite adventures.”
Finding Your People
The fire had burned lower.
Outside, twilight had given way to evening, and the soft sounds of laughter drifted through the tavern like an old familiar song.
I looked around the room once more.
The dwarf who had been explaining rules was now laughing with the young human over an impossible roll of the dice.
The nervous player across the room was no longer nervous at all.
She was leaning over the table, grinning as she described her character’s latest, and apparently disastrous, attempt to negotiate with a goblin.
No one seemed to care who had played for twenty years.
No one cared who had started today.
For a few precious hours…
Everyone simply belonged.
I looked back at Faunlormic.
“I think…”
“I finally understand.”
He smiled warmly.
“Do you?”
I nodded.
“I wasn’t really searching for a Dungeons & Dragons group.”
“I was searching for a place where I felt like I belonged.”
Faunlormic’s smile widened.
“Exactly.”
“The dice may bring people to the table.”
“The stories give them a reason to return.”
He glanced around the tavern.
“But it’s the people…”
“…who make a table feel like home.”
Nym raised his mug.
“Besides…”
“It’s much more fun saving kingdoms with friends than with strangers.”
The tavern answered with a chorus of raised mugs and cheerful laughter.
For the first time since beginning my journey…
I wasn’t wondering where to find my next game.
I was already thinking about coming back next week.
Your Next Adventure Begins
The evening had slipped quietly into night.
The fire burned low.
One by one, travelers gathered their cloaks, slung packs over their shoulders, and stepped back onto the old road.
I stood and thanked Faunlormic for his time.
“I think I know where to begin now.”
The old bard smiled.
“I suspected you did.”
He reached into a small leather pouch hanging from his belt.
From it, he withdrew a well-worn twenty-sided die.
Its edges had been softened by countless adventures.
Its numbers had faded from years of eager hands and impossible stories.
He placed it gently into my palm.
“Keep this.”
I looked down at it.
“I can’t.”
He smiled.
“Oh, you can.”
“I’ve discovered something over the years.”
“The finest adventures rarely begin because someone had all the answers.”
“They begin because someone found the courage…”
“…to pull up a chair…”
“…and say, ‘Would anyone like to play?'”
Nym hopped down from his chair.
“And besides…”
“If you wait until you’re ready…”
“You’ll probably never leave the tavern.”
Faunlormic laughed.
“The road is waiting.”
“So are the stories.”
“And somewhere…”
He nodded toward the tavern door.
“…there’s a table with an empty chair.”
“And there’s a good chance…”
“…the people sitting around it are hoping you’ll walk through the door.”
As I stepped out into the cool evening air, I realized the question I had carried with me for so many miles no longer seemed quite so difficult.
Finding a Dungeons & Dragons group wasn’t really about finding a game.
It was about finding a place where stories became friendships…
…and strangers became fellow adventurers.
Perhaps…
My next adventure had already begun.
As I reached for the door, Faunlormic’s voice stopped me one last time.
“Oh… before you head back onto the road.”
I turned.
“If you’re still looking for companions, take a moment to stop by One-Eyed Ethel’s Notice Board.”
“You’ll find travelers searching for adventuring parties, Game Masters looking for players, local game stores hosting events, and more than a few souls simply hoping to find others to share a story with.”
He smiled.
“You never know…”
“The next notice you read…”
He leaned back in his chair.
“…or the one you choose to post…”
“…might be the beginning of someone else’s adventure.”
Nym grinned.
“And sometimes…”
“…those turn out to be the very same story.”
Then his smile grew a little wider.
“And if you don’t find the adventure you’re looking for…”
He glanced toward the notice board.
“…perhaps it’s your turn to post one.”
Nym’s eyes lit up.
“Someone has to light the first lantern.”
Faunlormic nodded.
“Every thriving gaming community began because someone chose not to wait.”
“Someone invited.”
“Someone welcomed.”
“Someone pulled up another chair.”
He looked me in the eye.
“So if you can’t find the adventure you’re searching for…”
“…perhaps it’s time to begin one.”
With one last wave, I stepped out into the cool evening air.
This time, I wasn’t simply searching for an adventure.
I was ready to help create one.
From the Journals of Faunlormic McLorn
“Leave room at your table for the next traveler.”
Author: Rollin
Admin for The Adventurers Compass Dungeon Master Player for 45 years. Love almost all versions of Dungeons and Dragons.