I've changed my gaming style several
times since I began playing D&D in late 1980, with the original edition
(lower case, as it wasn't an "official" title!!). Those six stupid, little
books changed my life. I have been told that my first character was a Dwarven
Fighter, but I don't remember... it was all a haze...
It began earlier that year when I
began my life at college. I quickly found a couple of friends and began doing
what all college students did when the drinking age was 18... drinking copious
amounts of alcohol, and looking for women of loose morals (not necessarily in
that order!!). I began pledging a fraternity, Tau Kappa Epsilon, and one of
these friends began pledging a rival frat, Sigma Tau Epsilon. Of course, as you
may expect, for the next month, we kind of lost touch.
And then the magical day came!
I went to breakfast one day in early
October and there sat my friend, looking like something the cat had puked up. I
sat next to him and asked if the Sig Tau's had started "Hell Week"
already – and he just shook his head in the negative, in a daze. I asked what
he had done the night before, and if she had been cute, and he related the most
amazing story to me on that cool, fall day.
"We were traveling in the
forest and these wolves attacked. I've never been so scared in my life! I
pulled my battle axe out and started hacking at them, but they were too fast! I
got bit twice, but they weren't solid bites, so they didn't do that much
damage. The whole group was hacking and slashing and it seemed like we were
going to lose, but the damned things started going down. I killed two of them,
myself! And about a half-hour ago I had just finished skinning one of the
wolves and stood up, and I saw this huge, white wolf that breathed frost – even
though it wasn't cold enough for it. The damned thing was watching us from on
top of the ridge. We had to break and I came straight here..."
It wasn't so much the fantastical
story he had told, but his EYES. The expression on his face was one that showed
that he wasn't just telling a story, he was reliving it! In an awed
voice, I asked him what woods he was in and what he had done with the pelt
(keep in mind that this was extreme northern Wisconsin, so woods, wolves, and
pelts were commonplace).
He just looked at me and said,
"We were in the Sig Tau [Sigma Tau Gamma fraternity] house."
That night, I broke all fraternal
bounds and entered this mystical Sig Tau house and played my first session of
D&D. Needless to say, I was hooked.
In retrospect, those first
characters were pretty sad. None had names, and since the Monk class was
hardest for which to qualify in the original system, we all figured that it was
the best, so we all rolled up Monks every chance we got, and that was several
times a night, as PC mortality was legend. We would have entire parties of
Monks, one opening doors, two with bows covering the doors, and one or two more
to dash in and engage whatever horrific monsters the early books allowed. Essentially,
we could have made Xerox copies of our character sheets and nobody would have
known, outside of differing amounts of treasure that we had collected.
It was only two weeks later that I
began my career as a GM, running a campaign based on the Edgar Rice Burroughs, John
Carter from Mars series. I am being very generous when I say that it
sucked, but such is the life of a new GM. I still played heavily back then at
the same time, and each day was nearly the same.
Fridays would start at about 4:00 in
the afternoon – and we'd game until 5:30, dash to the university dining hall,
then dash back to continue until 11:50. Then we'd sprint down to the local 7/11
to get OJ and those little, white, powdered donuts before the store closed (no
it wasn't 24 hours!!). Then we would game until 3-4:00 in the morning before
crashing in the dorms wherever we happened to be playing. Someone would wake up
about 8:00 a.m. and we would start again, playing all day Saturday, then all
day Sunday. Monday through Thursday were alternating between playing until 1 or
2:00, or drinking and looking for girls. We usually did better playing, so
there weren't many drunken girl-hunts. Oh, yeah, the Play's the Thing!
Is there any doubt as to why I got a
1.11 GPA that semester?
Anyway, it took about three years
before my gaming philosophy began to evolve. I was stocking a newly drawn
dungeon with monsters out of the tables in the back of the Great Tome of
Creatures, and it suddenly dawned on me that it didn't make any sense. Why are
a horde of hobgoblins in a room right next to a small crew of goblins?
According to the descriptions in the Monster Manual, hobgobs ENSLAVED
gobs... so why didn't these do that? With no good answer, I did exactly that.
I left college after that first year
(you know that agreement some parents make with their kids, get good grades and
we'll pay for college? Well, mine kept their side of the bargain!), and had
enlisted in the Army. Just a year after that, I got caught in a RIF (reduction
in force, read: downsizing), and was sent home. I spent a year cooking at a Louisiana
prison system (now THERE are some stories I could tell!) before I eventually
made my way back to the same college I’d originally attended (University of
Wisconsin at Superior).
With the new philosophy, I had my
very first acknowledged TPK. Sure, it used to happen all the time, what, with encounter
tables saying 10-100 gnolls at a time? It happened ALL the time!! But it had
never happened to a group like this before... or at least one of MY groups. The
players were aghast! "What the hell was that?? The bad guys were
working TOGETHER!!!" Well, like many times before, they all took
five minutes to roll up new Xerox-worthy characters, and they were off again -
but this time they were cautious.
Cautious and victorious! *cue crowd
cheering*
Shortly after that, I began to think
the same way about my characters. Why were they all carbon copies? Why not any
variation? Were all PC's just Conans and Grey Mousers and Gandalfs? Why not a
short, fat wizard that hated pointy hats? Why not a giant that was also a
thief? Why not a Les Nessman-style fighter? (for those not in the know, imagine
a tiny weakling that is scared of stuff more powerful than cotton balls)
That was the last major shift. From
there, I just kept thinking about the game itself – and always asking,
"Why". When drawing a map of a continent, I would wonder why I wanted
a cliff right there... and a river over there... it drove me to distraction!
But I think it helped.
I began researching geology, and
from there I planned an entire planet for my campaign world. I know its
elemental makeup, I know the directions that the various continental plates are
moving – and how fast – and I know where the civilizations are located. I know
where the ruins are – and who lived there before... and before them – and I
know what is there to find for loot.
Why do I do it? The HUGE majority of
crap I've designed and planned will never be known by my players... so WHY??
The PLAY'S the Thing!
You know the feeling when you watch
a good movie or read a good book, you get pulled in, and you forget that there
is a REALITY out there? Suddenly a baby howls or you have to pee, and you snap
back to this realm... and it almost hurts, and you can't wait to get back to
that alternate world... That is what I call "playing"!
When a new person rolls up a
character for my campaign world, it will make sense. There won't be moments of
disbelief as to why there is a river flowing in one direction here, and a
quarter mile away a river flowing in the other direction... There won't be
moments of confusion as the player asks, "Why," something is
happening... at least why something didn't make sense in a gaming sense. If
they have to stop and ask, it will be a plot device... just like REALITY.
When a person wants to become a part
of my campaign world, they become a mover and a shaker in my realm. They may
avert a great war... or they may start one. I have calendars set up for things
to happen – that, unless foiled by the characters, WILL happen. They may never
know – until hearing it from a town crier – or they may be part of it. Why? Why
do I do this?
It's all about the playing. The
Play's the Thing!
