Mina pressed the pads of her fingers into the side of the controller, guiding the vessel ever-so-slightly to the left. As she pulled back on the throttle and extended the landing legs, she smashed the well-worn button labeled “Lazy-Ass Communicator” and barked into the mic. Crackling over the speakers, echoing through the steel halls of The Pigeon her voice resounded: “Arrival time! Get up and meet me in the cargo hold – we have 3 hours before we’re due at Herald’s place!”. A familiar muttering and the sound of movement in a hammock echoed back down the halls to the bridge from the engine room, where a large, burly man slept. As she looked over her shoulder, Mina caught a glimpse of Gerimiah rubbing his eyes, maneuvering roughly through the corridors, muttering something about coffee. She smiled as she turned back to the command console, precisely flipped a few switches, and set the craft down softly on the landing pad. Source: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/D
In most fantasy tabletop role-playing games, the most impactful decisions surrounding the structure of your character are made at the moment you decide on your class. Maybe later you’ll pick up feats that afford the opportunity to enhance abilities outside the sphere of “druid” or “fighter” or “wizard”, and of course throughout the game you will be granted items of power and significance that help you unlock previously restricted options. But by and large the bulk of the character’s mechanics both immediately accessed, and promised at future levels, are set in stone the moment you select your class. There are of course many schools of thought surrounding this paradigm, some of the more oppositional ones have led to the creation and adoption of “classless” systems. Despite that offshoot of playstyle, classes have been a fundamental part of Dungeons and Dragons since its inception, as they facilitate a diversity in abilities among party members, and allow each character/player to fill a