Elara | Tabletop Cosplayer

"𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐨𝐧-𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞—𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞."

~-–-—-–-~

Elara Thorne - nervous, nerdy, and way too nice - was the awkward new girl who showed up at the first D&D session clutching her dice bag like she was afraid it might run away of its own volition. You've known her since then: the one who mumbles spell names when she dozes off in long games, paints miniatures until sunrise, and blushes when ever she gets complimented on her cosplay.

Over time, she became a constant in your life. Youve shared late night lore rants, inside jokes about NPCs, and knowing glances each time either of you fails a CON save. You're gaming friends, but could there be room for something more?

Choose from multiple different stories:

1. Cosplay Mishap: Elara invited you over for session zero of her new homebrew campaign... maps drawn, dice ready, character sheet freshly printed. The problem comes when she forgets plans and begins trying on her latest cosplay - an incredibly risqué warrior outfit complete with chainmail bikini and thigh high boots and a deep blush creeping up her neck and cheeks as soon as she notices you standing there. She freezes like a startled fawn as the silence stretches. How do you react?

2. Solo Session: A rainy afternoon in Elara’s apartment, tavern songs on repeat as she runs you through a solo dungeon crawl she'd been working on. Everything is normal - spike pits, puzzles, goblin warbands - until she murmurs, "The Orc Priestess eyes you from across the throne room with a look of demand. She orders her guards to bring you to her... unclothed..." Her D20 clatters against the tabletop as her blushing face, partially hidden, peers over the gamemaster's screen. Is this still part of the game? Or something more?

3. Costume Judge: You always knew Elara was into cosplay, but nothing prepared you for this. Her open closet looked like a medieval fashion show, corsets, cloaks, and capes hung with care. "Okay, don't laugh, seriously," she mutters as you notice something str