Dungeons
by phill
I have a
confession to make. Two actually, but both can be revealed in one sentence. I had not played Dungeons & Dragons until two months ago. I’m not sure how I missed it. I was a prime example for succumbing to its lurid stare; a high school uber nerd who enjoyed reading fantasy books and writing stories. But somehow we never got there, instead preferring the wiles of Magic cards and Starcraft LANs.
Cut to present day and last night I finished wrapping up the second module that our band of intrepid adventurers have swung swords and fired magic missiles through.They all did very well, though a few were cut down in their prime by the wrath of a very pissed off Kobold. There were cries of dismay as his two-handed man-slayer axe flung through the air and chopped one of the party’s two sorcerer’s in twain. A howl of victory emanated from his fanged maw as the rest of the party prepared for a…*ahem* Sorry, it’s just that it’s very easy to get carried away. Anyway, when I stared indulging in D&D I expected a lot of things. I expected it to be a bit fiddly, what with all that supposed dice throwing involved. I expected it to be a bit shameful, and a touch on the self-aware side. And it turns out it was and is those things. But what I didn’t expect it to be–and what it has turned out, quite wondrously, to contain–is a whole lot of fun.
I spent the first campaign playing a halfling rogue who blundered along making life hard for everyone else at the table with his kleptomaniac attitude to everything that wasn’t nailed down. I then swapped seats with the DM and took up the role of storyteller, which I think suits me a lot better. We are playing along to pre-made campaigns at the moment, so there’s not a whole lot of room for flair. But I’ve promised them that the next one we play will be something of my own devising, and they’ll finally get to see a proper city, having been stuck in the fantasy equivalent of Mandurah for the past two campaigns. It’s mentally exhausting, being the DM. You have a script in front of you, but that’s only an ideal. The four players in front of me have other ideas of what the script should be and I’ve got to accommodate their wishes to at least some degree in order for them to feel like they’re playing a part. So you’ve got to constantly be on your feet and making sure that you’re consistent with all your decisions, that you don’t do something or say something that’s going to come back to bite you on the arse later on. I actually end up completely exhausted and ready for bed at the end of our three or four hour sessions.
So, D&D. It’s the complete nerdfest that I thought it would be, but it’s also a great way to have a laugh with some mates. Now, where did I put that Bestiary, I need to think of some CL7 monsters to put in the next campaign…
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