In Praise of Dhampirs

[thetableyoufearthemost]

 

The Dhampir and his friends crept carefully through the underwater Temple, anticipating danger around every corner… 

They’d come to this place through magical means: they’d found an island in the middle of a huge lake by surprise–it didn’t appear on any map. On the island stood a dark obelisk. Touching the obelisk caused a tunnel to form through the water, leading to the perfectly-preserved Temple, its dark stone and grotesque idols giving the adventurers a strong sense of foreboding. 

After searching through a few rooms and felling a few monsters, the party came to a crossroads: three separate paths presented themselves. The Dhampir suggested taking the middle exit. After some debate, the rest of the adventurers agreed. 

The Dhampir, we should note, is played by a friend of my son’s. He’s a great kid who happens to struggle quite a bit with ADHD. It’s fairly obvious to the rest of us at the Dungeons & Dragons table that his character’s Dhampir lineage–essentially he’s a half-vampire, half-living human–is a metaphor for feeling demonized for something he was born with. In the backstory he wrote for the character, the Dhampir is an orphan. His parents’ final wish was for him to find a way to be fully human. 

The party followed the middle path into a large room. At the center stood a strange table with arcane carvings. As the players investigated the table, a ghost appeared. He introduced himself simply as “the Professor.” Explaining that while he was alive, he had studied many esoteric practices as well as the biological sciences, the Professor let it slip that he had discovered how to transform Dhampirs into fully-alive humans. 

He made our Dhampir an offer: hop up on the table and we can begin the procedure immediately. You can stop being a Dhampir. 

The table fell silent. My son’s friend paused for only a moment.

“If you had offered me that even just a few weeks ago, I would’ve said yes. But now that I’ve met these people [here he gestured at the other boys at the table], they’ve taught me that I have a lot to contribute as a Dhampir. There are a lot of things that have helped us on our adventure that only I could do because of what I am. I think I like myself the way I am. So I’m going to have to say no thank you.”

I started to get misty-eyed. One of the other boys promptly stood up, walked around the table, and wrapped our Dhampir up in a big hug.

***

Carl Jung once wrote:

“In myths the hero is the one who conquers the dragon, not the one who is devoured by it. And yet both have to deal with the same dragon. Also, he is no hero who never met the dragon, or who, if once he saw it, declared afterwards that he saw nothing. Equally, only one who has risked the fight with the dragon and is not overcome by it wins the hoard, the “treasure hard to attain”. He alone has a genuine claim to self-confidence, for he has faced the dark ground of his self and thereby has gained himself. This experience gives some faith and trust, the pistis in the ability of the self to sustain him, for everything that menaced him from inside he has made his own. He has acquired the right to believe that he will be able to overcome all future threats by the same means. He has arrived at an inner certainty which makes him capable of self-reliance.” 

One of the profound things I most appreciate about Dungeons & Dragons is the opportunity to face that dark ground of ourselves. The dragons and monsters we face in a good TTRPG aren’t exterior to ourselves. We are making what menaces us from the inside our own. 

We are learning, in other words, to be truly ourselves and no one else.