I don’t pretend to know what the hell I’m doing. I just roll with it. And if the dice comes up to my advantage, so be it. If it doesn’t—I’ll find myself running, leaping, and softly grazing a Dragonborn’s derrière. The swarm of wasps surround us, and my failed leap onto his back causes him to misfire his fire breath. I luck out because, despite of my shame of groping a fellow adventurer, my fall grants me some safety. The wasps ignore me. They go after him. Our DM loves for bugs. Maybe disturbingly so. Since our first adventure began, we’ve combated ants, bedbugs, and now these wasps. And those are just the ones I remember. Had my character not landed flat on his face, he…