I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I became a dad: I think my son’s Christmas presents are super cool and I can’t wait for him to open them so I can play with them. Don’t worry. I’ll give him a turn if he’s good.
Game night for our group has always been the day out of the week we can let off some steam. When it’s board game night, there’s usually time to let our luxurious social hair and talk about stuff, including whatever’s bothering us. D&D nights tend to be more escapist, and we’re on-task right after everybody gets done eating. Up until now, this has worked pretty well. When I first started DMing, it was really stressful. It still is, but there’s a certain euphoria that comes with getting a session to take flight (or at least not to crash and burn), and it always feels good when it’s all over.
Except when it doesn’t.
A few weeks ago, I had an odd conversation with one of the guys from my gaming group. We were discussing Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, and he was talking about how much he loved it, and I was discussing how much I hated it. At one point, he pauses for a moment, and asks something to the effect of “Matt, what’s the last game you actually really liked?”
I had to think about it a minute. Which was bad, because it sort of proved his point.
As I looked at my son and his friend play Talisman “wrong”, I was flooded with powerful memories and a striking realization. One of the reasons why I love D&D so much is because I learned most of it by making stuff up while trying to learn it. I got most of it wrong, but I didn’t know then and I still had more fun than any other games I’d played so far!