August 26, 2023: Dungeons and Dragons
Sep. 6th, 2023 04:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eerietomSeveral weeks ago, my friend $6M-Man (not his real name, obviously) hosted a roleplaying game party, then said he would like to host a more structured Dungeons and Dragons game in the future. I’d never played D&D before; I had some friends in high school who were into it, but it just sounded overly complicated and besides, I’m not really into fantasy and trolls and wizards and dragons and elves and so on. But I had a good time at the first party so I thought I’d give it a go. $6M-Man then had a party where we created our characters, which took up the whole evening, then said he’d have the actual gameplay on another day.
I guess I was expecting D&D to be mostly a dice roll game: for example, an elf armed with a the sword of Reueltolkiena would have to battle an amethyst dragon, which can only be killed with a combined total of 117 with the roll of three 20-sided dice, one 50-sided die, and one 12-sided die. If the dragon is vanquished, it’s the next person’s turn. If not, I guess the elf ... runs away to battle another day? However, actual gameplay was rather different, although there was plenty of dice-rolling. There was considerable improv, not unlike the first game we played with the evil porpoise.
I was also quite impressed with some of the player’s knowledge, like ...
What the huh? It sounded like they were making it up as they went but I think not. Considering there was a stack of D&D guide books as thick as a dozen New York City phone books, I was amazed anyone could remember all those little statistics. I was particularly impressed with $6M-Man, who sometimes comes across as a little reserved: here he was like a mix of master auctioneer, raconteur, and improv performance artist.
At one point when everyone was talking, I closed my eyes. I saw a boardroom (I was stoned, by the way), like one might expect in a Fortune 500 company, with a high quality, long wooden conference table and chairs, all very old school. People sat on either side of the table. The room itself was decorated in muted tones, with wood paneling and sconces. Overhead was a row of blinding white fluorescent lights. I did a rough sketch ...
Click image for larger view; opens in new window.
As the sun set and $6M-Man’s living room grew dark, he turned on the kitchen light behind him. It was quite bright and put him in dramatic silhouette. I sketched the actual scene on the same page. And as if what I was seeing wasn’t dramatic enough, one of $6M-Man’s friends (I’ll call them Farrar) was sitting to his left. I had met them several times before, but this time they were sporting a striking new hairdo with feathered bangs. In that light, and with their makeup, Farrar looked like Siouxsie Sioux. What an evening ... being at a party with this master auctioneer and Siouxsie Sioux!
My only critique was, as a new player, I didn’t know the limits of what I was able or allowed to do. I didn’t know one could rebel against the dungeonmaster, for example. My character didn’t seem to have any magic powers ... did I simply not know I had them? I did ask ... apparently I was the only one without magic powers. A week or so later, $6M-Man and I discussed the game over coffee, and he said he’d see what he could do to give my character some powers; he also suggested I simply say what I wanted to do, and he’d let me know if it fell within the limits of the game or of my character’s abilities.
After a few hours, I left and went to catch the bus. By now it was completely dark outside. The red lighting of the bus interior was so intense it cast a bloody pall on the passengers. The effect was even more pronounced on the security cam monitor—we all looked like glowing embers. It was like riding a bus to hell. The electronic sign listed the upcoming stops as if to taunt us: the bus wasn’t actually going to stop where any of the damned might hop off and thus be spared an eternity in hell. Very little of the outside was visible through the windows. All I could see from my seat were street signs without visible means of support, like specters that appeared out of nowhere and floated past.
I got home and turned in and listened to the debut (1986) album by jazz band Last Exit, with Peter Brötzmann on sax, Bill Laswell on bass, Sonny Sharrock on guitar, and Ronald Shannon Jackson on drums. Sublime!
I guess I was expecting D&D to be mostly a dice roll game: for example, an elf armed with a the sword of Reueltolkiena would have to battle an amethyst dragon, which can only be killed with a combined total of 117 with the roll of three 20-sided dice, one 50-sided die, and one 12-sided die. If the dragon is vanquished, it’s the next person’s turn. If not, I guess the elf ... runs away to battle another day? However, actual gameplay was rather different, although there was plenty of dice-rolling. There was considerable improv, not unlike the first game we played with the evil porpoise.
I was also quite impressed with some of the player’s knowledge, like ...
| Eleanor the Elf-zard | I want to attack the dragon with my sword! |
| Dungeonmaster | Okay, you can combine your strength points with your dexterity points and add your intuition bonus. |
| Eleanor the Elf-zard | Oh wait, I don’t have enough intuition, but what if I used wisdom points instead of dexterity points? |
| Dungeonmaster | You can’t use wisdom points against a dragon, but since you are a half-wizard with lava teleporting powers, you can multiply your intuition bonus by what you roll three times on a 22-sided dice, then add three charisma points. |
| Eleanor the Elf-zard | Can I imbue my sword with a lava stream? |
| Dungeonmaster | Only if you’re a 7th level elf-zard ... |
| Eleanor the Elf-zard | ... which I am! |
| Dungeonmaster | ... but are you immune to blood mists? |
| Eleanor the Elf-zard | Err ... I’m not sure? |
| Orneela the Ogre | Elf-zards of level 6 and up are immune to blood mists. |
| Dungeonmaster | Done! Roll your dice ... |
What the huh? It sounded like they were making it up as they went but I think not. Considering there was a stack of D&D guide books as thick as a dozen New York City phone books, I was amazed anyone could remember all those little statistics. I was particularly impressed with $6M-Man, who sometimes comes across as a little reserved: here he was like a mix of master auctioneer, raconteur, and improv performance artist.
At one point when everyone was talking, I closed my eyes. I saw a boardroom (I was stoned, by the way), like one might expect in a Fortune 500 company, with a high quality, long wooden conference table and chairs, all very old school. People sat on either side of the table. The room itself was decorated in muted tones, with wood paneling and sconces. Overhead was a row of blinding white fluorescent lights. I did a rough sketch ...
Click image for larger view; opens in new window.
| description of above image, from top to bottom, drawn in pencil on a sheet of ruled loose-leaf paper | |
| caption | “I picture us in a multipurpose room” |
| illustration | Sketch of a long table, with three people sitting on either side. There is a row of fluorescent lights overhead. |
| captions | “real wood table” “blinding fluorescents” “and later [$6M-Man] turned on his kitchen light, which put the blinding, pale, fluorescent light in the exact above position and this POV” “sitting at a table with a trippy auctioneer/raconteur and Siouxsie” |
| illustration | A slightly more detailed sketch of the table scene above, with $6M-Man at the head of the table, two people on the left side, and four on the right. The light casts dramatic shadows and puts $6M-Man in silhouette. Behind $6M-Man on the wall is a carving(?) that resembles a tiki; to the left is an enlarged drawing of the carving. |
As the sun set and $6M-Man’s living room grew dark, he turned on the kitchen light behind him. It was quite bright and put him in dramatic silhouette. I sketched the actual scene on the same page. And as if what I was seeing wasn’t dramatic enough, one of $6M-Man’s friends (I’ll call them Farrar) was sitting to his left. I had met them several times before, but this time they were sporting a striking new hairdo with feathered bangs. In that light, and with their makeup, Farrar looked like Siouxsie Sioux. What an evening ... being at a party with this master auctioneer and Siouxsie Sioux!
My only critique was, as a new player, I didn’t know the limits of what I was able or allowed to do. I didn’t know one could rebel against the dungeonmaster, for example. My character didn’t seem to have any magic powers ... did I simply not know I had them? I did ask ... apparently I was the only one without magic powers. A week or so later, $6M-Man and I discussed the game over coffee, and he said he’d see what he could do to give my character some powers; he also suggested I simply say what I wanted to do, and he’d let me know if it fell within the limits of the game or of my character’s abilities.
After a few hours, I left and went to catch the bus. By now it was completely dark outside. The red lighting of the bus interior was so intense it cast a bloody pall on the passengers. The effect was even more pronounced on the security cam monitor—we all looked like glowing embers. It was like riding a bus to hell. The electronic sign listed the upcoming stops as if to taunt us: the bus wasn’t actually going to stop where any of the damned might hop off and thus be spared an eternity in hell. Very little of the outside was visible through the windows. All I could see from my seat were street signs without visible means of support, like specters that appeared out of nowhere and floated past.
I got home and turned in and listened to the debut (1986) album by jazz band Last Exit, with Peter Brötzmann on sax, Bill Laswell on bass, Sonny Sharrock on guitar, and Ronald Shannon Jackson on drums. Sublime!
