The GM: Everyone’s Best Friend
You haven’t lived until a total stranger takes the time to post on an Internet forum that you should be dragged from your house and thrown in front of a bus. And that happened to me recently. Usually the people who wish that upon me are at least familiar with me, if not close friends and family. I am not saying that I have never done something to deserve this bus-pummeling, but it might lead one to wonder what I did in this case to unleash the kind of bile that is usually reserved for politicians, reality TV stars, and various deities. What I did, intrepid reader, was have the audacity to write a D&D adventure for an organized-play campaign.
I will admit that writing for an organized-play campaign–in this case Living Forgotten Realms–is usually punishment enough in itself. Hell, you’re putting yourself halfway under the bus at the outset. No dragging necessary. But what did I write into this adventure that encouraged someone to wish me the rest of the way? Honestly, I still have no idea. Whatever angered Random Internet Guy so much that he wanted to see me end up like that dude from the show Lost who got torqued by a Greyhound was not something I put into the adventure. It appears the part of the adventure that prompted the ill-will was a careful addition by the player’s GM. [Read the rest of this article]
Minions of Differing Flavors
Last time, I talked about how minions spice up encounters and what they’re meant to do in the D&D game. But, just like the epicure needs new and exciting experiences, numerous DMs among us need new ways to mix it up with minions. This is especially true if you feel your minions disappear too quickly to be interesting or seem to be no added challenge. I’m going to attempt to, as an infamous chef might say, help you to kick it up a notch . . . sometimes.
I already suggested that you take some care in using minions to create a specific flavor when you’re brewing up encounters. You can take it a step further by creating or altering minions. Several methods can be used to change minion effectiveness and flavor. Used cleverly and in the right amount, these schemes can make minions a tastier addition to some encounters.
Spice to Taste
Let me reemphasize the use of minions as a form of encounter pacing and narrative flow. When you design an encounter, you can make up storyline reasons why the minions show up in intervals—or show up, then disappear. then show up again. When you design the pacing this way, only a portion of the minions is on the battlefield at one time. The characters can kill only what’s there at the time. The arrival of new combatants changes the course of the encounter.
As an aside, I never roll initiative for new minions. They appear and go on the same initiative count as the initial minions in the encounter did. Doing this keeps the game rolling. (I actually rarely roll initiative for any monster, but that’s a topic for another day.)
In my Gen Con Dark Sun game, as an example, the characters were the fuel for an evil ritual in which a dray (dragonborn) sorcerer was turning himself into a kaisharga (lich). They were far from alone in this predicament, but they were the only individuals with the fortitude and influence of other forces to awaken during the ritual. Each round, the ritual dealt damage to the characters, and some of the other unfortunates being used for arcane fodder died. A defiled spirit, like a weak wraith, rose from the remains of each NPC who perished. These minions, appearing two or three per round, harried the characters as they tried to unravel the ritual. In fact, the minions caused some nail biting, since the defiled spirits were in a position to take out a character or two who had to choose between attacking the minions and continuing to oppose the ongoing ritual.
Long Live the Flavor
If minion survival is a goal, it’s fair to carefully fiddle with what keeps a minion alive and in the battle. At the heroic tier, you might need to be cautious with such tinkering. At higher levels, minor survivability changes to minions rarely matter much. Just make sure the narrative quality of a minion fits with its longevity.
What happens if you change “HP 1; a missed attack never damages a minion” to “HP 1; this minion takes damages only when hit by an attack”? You’ve just eliminated automatic damage, such as from rain of steel, and attacks that require no attack rolls, such as the new magic missile, from possible damage sources for this minion. Hazardous terrain effects that require no attack roll can’t take this minion out, either. That’s good for some minions, as long as you mean to remove the effects of some powers, such as cleave, when making such a change.
Again, use these techniques with care, avoiding thwarting character abilities just because you can. Single encounters with unusual creatures are fine. Repeatedly being faced with monsters who are immune to aspects of your powers is frustrating.
That’s why traditional immunities aren’t great options for normal monster design. They can thwart a character too much, and they can eliminate certain character themes as viable builds. However, immunity to a damage type or two can work well for minions. Resistance does little for minions, since only 1 damage has to make it through. A fire minion with fire immunity makes perfect sense, though. Fire never deals enough damage to kill such a creature, but it still takes only one solid hit with another damage type to kill it.
You can make it so that one solid hit isn’t enough to kill some minions. Two-hit minions come in various forms. Insubstantial, like most resistances, does little for a minion. However, it’s easy to imagine an insubstantial minion being allowed a saving throw against taking damage from an attack once per encounter. In fact, the fell taint drone from Dragon 367 does just that. I’ve also made minions I wanted to appear tough or heavily armored, such as dwarf militia warriors, that receive a saving throw against the first hit. The narrative tells the players and characters why the minion is hard to kill.
No hard-to-kill minion discussion is complete without mentioning zombies. To me, zombie minions are almost required to give any horde of shambling corpses the right feel. Further, as my players know, I like for zombies to get up again after they seem dead. Some of my regular-monster zombies rise again as low-hit-point monsters, and others reanimate as minions. Zombie minions can also be two-hit wonders, because they might stand back up on their next turn if not dealt with appropriately. It works even better if you make the ability to rise again unpredictable. You can probably think of reasons for non-undead minions to behave similarly—elementals, demons, primal spirits and so on.
Savor the Subtle
Minions are meant to deal damage and worry the characters enough to change party tactics. Consider, though, the countless ways a minion might deal its damage. It need not have an attack to do its dirty work.
Like a warlord granting the barbarian an extra attack, a minion can simply stand around and benefit the stronger creatures in the fight. I’m not talking about resorting to Aid Another, although that can be cool in an all-out kobold free-for-all. What I mean is a minion that provides openings, hinders enemies, and/or damages characters just because it’s there.
Imagine a minion that has an aura to make enemies vulnerable to other damage, less effective at defense, or something else insidious. It might deal automatic damage—what’s good for the players is good for the DM—impose a condition, or alter terrain around it. The players will want those minions gone, believe me. All the better if you decide to add new ones over the course of the encounter.
The fire sinks from Seekers of the Ashen Crown are this type of minion. They don’t attack. Instead, a fire sink moseys up to you and eliminates your resistances to fire. Then it burns you if you end your turn next to it. Hello Ms. Tiefling, it’s time to get out of the kitchen or taste the heat. New experiences are fun, no?
Consider the Aftertaste
Speaking of tasting the bitterly unexpected, I’m no fan of gotcha powers on monsters. You know the ones. When the boneshard skeleton blows up all over the whole party, that’s a gotcha power. Such powers are the worst when they have large areas, like the boneshard skeleton’s boneshard burst. A close burst 1 allows the characters to pull out forced movement powers to move the foe away before the gotcha power goes off. Close burst 3, though? Not interesting, so no thanks.
For minions, however, I don’t mind gotcha powers so much. If a minion does something funky and fun when it dies, and it makes sense for the creature’s nature, that’s fine with me. Even so, minions don’t need to be too gotcha to be effective. I still favor small areas and powers that require attack rolls, or powers that affect the minion’s allies for a time.
A myconid gas spore (from Underdark) is much more fun if its spore burst is small enough that pushing the creature 1 square away saves you and your buddy from the damage. Then it becomes a tactical puzzle rather than a situation that no amount of careful play can help. Making the players interested and wiling to adapt is the point. That’s why I changed the spore burst to close burst 1 for my game. The players started pushing the spores around rather than shrugging and taking the original burst-3 spore burst.
In this vein, I also like powers such as Monster Manual 2‘s rupture demon’s demonic infestation, at least in spirit. A minion that dies, and then it gives its buddy a few hit points and more melee effectiveness? Nice! More, please. What I dislike about the power is its duration. I’d rather see a bigger damage boost, like the rupture demon’s normal damage, for 1 round. The cumulative, whole-encounter effect is too much.
What I’m saying with all this is: Rather than increasing a minion’s survivability, consider giving it some aftereffect, like those above, when it dies. Once again, make sure you’re creating a fun experience rather than a frustrating one. Watch the area on exploding minions and the duration of lingering effects. What’s amusing or tactically exciting for a round might become tedious in the long run. Play it out in your head or even with a grid and minis to see if your imagined effect is really what you’ll see in play.
A Third Course
I’ve reached the limit for this article’s digestibility, methinks. A few elements remain on environment and narrative roles (illusions) for minions. It looks like I’ll have to give all that to you next time.
For now, share some of your minion ideas in the comments. Let’s see what we can stir up.
Illustrations by Jared von Hindman of Head Injury Theater.
The Architect DM: Building Foundations
A couple of weeks ago I did a guest segment on the Dungeon Master Guys podcast with Quinn (from At-Will) and Dave about the topic of improvising as a DM. While discussing this with Dave and Quinn I suddenly realized that I have become rather adept at coming up with dungeons, locations, and hand drawn battle maps on a whim when they are needed in my D&D campaign. Both of them quickly suggested that this might be a result of my day job as an Architect and designer.
This is the first post in a series I’m calling “The Architect DM” where I will be talking about how the ideas, concepts, and philosophies of designing real life locations can be applied to your D&D game. This series will not be a “how to make your D&D game exactly like real life” kind of guide, but I will try to provide suggestions for what can be done to make the game feel like real life, and what can be done to make the game have an even greater sense of fantasy to it!
What are the origins of your environment?
As the title of this post suggests, I’m going to start with some of the groundwork that goes behind the idea of designing a dungeon or any kind of location you use while running a tabletop RPG. The deepest and most important part of a location’s foundation is who created it, and perhaps the most fundamental question is: is it a constructed environment or is it natural? The answer to this question can be either response, or both!
Suppose your players have stumbled upon old ruins that have been overtaken by nature, you should create a location that has the feel of both a purposeful building and the untamed chaos that nature brings to things. You can approach a location like this in many different ways, but one of the more involved methods would be to roughly plan out what the location was like before it was claimed by nature. Once this is complete you can begin to tear it down in interesting and fun ways!
Don’t spend too much time on that rough plan, however, because the players will only ever see a portion of it so you don’t need to flesh it out entirely. The easiest way to accomplish this is to reuse a location you’ve already created, either for the same campaign (and have the party return to it after a long time absent) or feel free to take a location from a previous campaign or any published module you can find. One of my late heroic adventures in my current D&D campaign involved the party returning to the Keep on the Shadowfell hundreds of years after the module took place, entire sections of the dungeon had collapsed and other new areas had opened up, but the basic feel of the dungeon was still quite present in the adventure. [Read the rest of this article]
In Defense of Funny
Three years ago, I was in the best D&D group I’d ever been part of. We were an odd bunch. Not all of us even got along particularly well, and we swapped out a couple of members over the years but we had a particular chemistry that I haven’t experienced elsewhere.
It was in this group that I discovered the way that I personally prefer to play Dungeons & Dragons. I’m the class clown. I like coming up with a strange (but well-fleshed-out) character concept, and pushing the limits of this character’s environment. Unfortunately, this has also meant testing the sanity of our DMs on a few occasions, and has taken it’s share of adventures off the rails. I’m not the only guilty party here, either. That was the beauty of it, for me anyway. Our group managed to keep a (mostly) serious tone to the adventure, and managed to save the world several times over it’s lifetime. Those of us who were inclined to do so were given a lot of room to play and be weird and funny and outrageous on the journey, and the more down-to-business types got theirs as well.
The end result was that everybody had a great time, no matter what it was they were after. I have to administer mad props to our DMs for balancing everything so well. I really do. But I think one other major factor to this working was that we took responsibility as players and didn’t let the funny stuff get in the way. I’ve heard so many people talk about how they don’t care for humor in their campaigns. It wrecks the suspense of disbelief. It spoils the sense of high adventure. I get it. I also see no reason one cannot have one’s iron rations and eat them too. (Fact: iron rations = adventure cake. look it up if you don’t believe me.)
I think the first rule of Funny Club is that you don’t talk about Funny Club. If you’re a player with a strange character, don’t remind everybody every ten seconds about your character’s neuroses. That’s annoying. Duh. This also means you should keep an eye on whether you’ve painted yourself into an Annoying Corner with your concept. Don’t forget you still have to fight, either. I played a necromancy specialist wizard once with both problems. He wanted to use necromancy to help others, but the setting dictated that magic in general (much less raising Grandma from the dead to help with the chores) was feared and reviled. That coupled with the fact that I had chosen nothing but noncombat spells “for role-play purposes” meant I had some choices to make at 2nd level if I wanted him to live.
Over the years, I’ve found I have the best fun roleplaying strange characters when I see an opportunity to let that character’s freak flag fly WHILE staying in character and still trying to achieve the party’s goals. I think in these cases it’s OK to metagame a bit and perhaps not play that berserker barbarian with irritable bowel syndrome or compulsive kleptomaniac you made COMPLETELY to the hilt. Sure, it’s not always Exactly What Your Character would do, but it follows the advice on page 149 of Vanir’s Guide To Surviving Social Contact with Other Humans, which clearly states that there are other people at the table who want to have fun too. It’s common sense when you think about it — don’t hog the spotlight! Better yet, if you’re going to go do something odd, include the other party members. This requires a DM that can think on their feet, but everybody has a lot of fun.
Part of whether a humorously-constructed character comes off as funny or annoying simply has to do with your sense of comic timing. It’s a skill just like anything else, and it takes practice. I have no illusions that I am a comedian, especially with a live audience, but if you can keep your eyes and ears open, you’ll be able to tell if what you’re doing is working. Your end goal is not to be awesome or the funniest dude in the room. Your goal is to have fun yourself and to make the experience more fun for everybody else. It’s a very difficult line to walk. I find myself tripping over it frequently, to be honest.
This incredibly scientific analysis wouldn’t be complete without a little bit of input from a man I’ve inflicted many aneurisms upon, my best friend and frequent DM — otherwise known as Dante from Stupid Ranger. He’s got plans to write about this more in-depth (which I will link to IN DUE TIME), but here’s what he had to say in the meantime:
I enjoy the thrill of having to come up with reactions to your crazy actions in the moment. It’s the same part of my brain that handles impromptu speaking and enjoys it. Plus, poop jokes are funny. Every single time.
I understand some groups really dig a high fantasy or a serious, somber mood. I am just not one of those people, most of the time. Plus, I think it provides a great contrast when you do want to have serious moments in your campaign.
I can really relate personally to that last bit – one of the most memorable moments in any D&D game I’ve ever played was the day my normally goofy, bumbling, brash battle-cleric’s best friend died in battle. All of a sudden, his world is shattered and he rages out and kills the monster that ended his friend’s life. Afterward, he sadly carries her body back to town. I still get a little weepy thinking about it. There were a lot of moments like that during that campaign.
As for how to DM a funny campaign? I’m afraid I’m not going to be of much help. Unless you’re running a campaign in Xanth, basing your encounters and setting on jokes and puns is going to get a little old, at least in my opinion. I’ve played plenty of one-off games that worked well with this format (NASCRAG, anyone?), and I know there are a few commercially produced modules out there, so it can work. I’m more of a fan of making a particular situation amusing than I am basically declaring Martial Humor Law.
I have no idea if any of this will be of use to anyone. If nothing else, it has served to remind me of some good times around the D&D table. But given how much fun I’ve had turning the serious dial down a couple notches, I can’t help but want to share. Have any of you had any experiences running a less-than-serious campaign? I’d love to hear them in the comments.
Dave’s Gen Con 2010 Wrap-up
So you may have seen all the Gen Con schedules posted last week that told you where various Critical Hits staff members were going to be, I am going to buck the trend and tell you where I WAS at Gen Con… or at least the highlights.
Wednesday
Arrived in the morning, was able to check in relatively early (the Hyatt rocks, by the way, except for the completely awful slow and expensive internet connection.) We then managed to get into a game of Castle Ravenloft, the new cooperative board game, for which E summarized the game play and we later did an unboxing video. We also helped Asmadi Games haul in product to their booth, giving us an early look at the exhibit hall before it was fully set up. From Asmadi, I later got a copy of Innovation and the Win, Lose, or Banana promo card Cake.
Thanks to Sarah Darkmagic‘s husband Fred, we found a good liquor store with a very helpful owner and I dropped over $200 on booze. (Thanks again, Fred!) We then returned to the Hyatt to secure tables, and at 8, ran DD&D. I’m still delighted and amazed that the event worked out, and have even more ideas for next year. Primary on my list is expanding to another table, since the worst part was having to turn away friends. I also want to organize a simultaneous teetotaler D&D game for our non-drinking friends. [Read the rest of this article]
What I Learned DMing for 10,000 Players
My first DMing experience was running The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh for five classmates back when we were barely 12 years old. That was almost too young for us to nearly wet ourselves laughing at all the “Ned Shakeshaft” jokes. Almost, but not quite. But even then, before I even knew what side of a d4 was up, I learned a few valuable DMing lessons. Jokes about bad names were not only inevitable, they were welcome. Finding that first magic item, even if it was just a +1 short sword, is motivating. Some allies should betray the PCs, and some enemies should turn out to be allies. Creating great stories through gaming was frickin’ amazing.
As I grew older and my gaming experiences expanded throughout high school and college, my players would grow to number roughly 100. We would play all the current editions of D&D, plus just about every RPG that was released in those times, no matter how complicated, silly, cheap, expensive, popular, forgotten, praised, or derided. Starting in 2002, however, my attention was brought sharply into focus on 3rd Edition D&D, and the number of players I oversaw began to grow rapidly out of control. At the point where I write this, I would say that I have DMed for thousands of players all over the world.
How, you ask? Do I have the world’s largest basement and a helipad on the roof? Alas, no. Since 2002, I have been an administrator in three different organized-play campaigns: the Writing Director for the region of Keoland in Living Greyhawk, the Factionmaster of the Crimson Codex faction in Eberron’s Xen’drik Expeditions campaign, and most recently a Global Administrator for the Living Forgotten Realms campaign. I also did work for the Eberron: Mark of Heroes campaign and Kenzer & Co.’s Living Kingdoms of Kalamar campaign. Because of some fortunate timing, I also have had the opportunity to design or contribute content to off-the-shelf products from Wizards of the Coast: P3 Assault on Nightwyrm Fortress, Dungeon Delve, DMG 2, and City of Stormreach.
Throughout all those years and all those projects, and thanks to all of the people whom I have interacted with and learned from in my gaming and writing life, I like to think I have gained at least a small amount of practical knowledge. But most of what I have learned has come at the expense of getting things wrong the first time (and often the second and third time as well). And that’s really what I want this column to be about going forward: offering insights and suggestions for adventure designers and DMs, while at the same time filling the entire Internet with things I don’t know.
As a little preview of what’s coming, I’ll share this. My background is in Creative Writing and English. I would always point out to my students things like the difference between story and plot. I would smugly quote E.M. Forster, stating that “The king died and then the queen died” is story, while “the king died and then the queen died from grief” is plot. For too long I would bring that same sort of subtlety into my adventure design, expecting the players to be in awe of my wit. Only after extensive and monumental failures did I realize that RPGs in general and D&D in particular play by a different set of rules. So with apologies to E.M Forster, I offer the following: “In D&D, ‘the king died and then the queen died’ is story. ‘The kind died and then the queen died from a greataxe through the skull and 20 ongoing radiant damage from the cleric because she was a whore succubus shagging the king’s knights while using their soul energy to perform a ritual that would open a rift to the deepest pits of hell and unleash a cataclysm foretold by the blind seers of the Lost Continent’ is D&D plot.”
Gaming is awesome, and I cannot wait to learn more about everything that makes this hobby of ours tick.
Gen Con 2010: Drinking Dungeons & Dragons
Now years ago, it started as a joke: making a drinking game out of 4e Dungeons & Dragons. After that, it became an annual tradition at Gen Con for some of our closest blogger friends those first two years, run by ChattyDM. This year, we were faced with two issues: we were getting too many people at the table, and Chatty was going to be busy with seminars and such leading up to Gen Con, limiting the time he would have to prepare.
I offered to step in and spear-head the DD&D game, if he would collaborate with me and run a second table. An accord was struck and the planning began: a Drinking Dungeons & Dragons event for Gen Con to top all the previous. As we planned more and more over the months leading up, it was clear this wasn’t just an ordinary convention game… it was an event. While the goal was drunken fun, the prep was serious business.
Last Wednesday at 8pm we ran the game to what I would call great success. We had 12 interested players, 2 DMs, a small audience, and over $200 in booze that would lead to quite an evening. I’d like to call out a few important things that went into the adventure… and I’ve invited ChattyDM to chime in with his thoughts as well.
(Chatty: Oh I’m there Dave! I’m there!) [Read the rest of this article]
The Left Hand of God: Review and Contest
Background
A nominally young adult novel set in a dystopian world that mirrors our own past, The Left Hand of God by Paul Hoffman is a book of impressive vision and puzzling inconsistencies that ultimately provides a gruesome, but highly enjoyable read. The book follows the trials and travails of a young boy named Cale raised in a brutal dogmatic monastery of a twisted parody of Christianity. His life is forever changed upon witnessing a deed horrifying even to his own warped perspective.
Setting
The world has a religious martyr named the Hanged Redeemer, but this isn’t the cuddly Crucified Martyr we all know. The followers of this religion are engaged in a bloody civil war much like the Reformation period. Very little information is given about what the differences are between the Redeemers and the Antagonists (who don’t appear on camera), but we can loosely assume that the Redeemers are dogmatic quasi-Catholics and the Antagonists are revolutionary thinking quasi-Protestants. The Redeemers are headquartered at The Sanctuary, a place where children are taken from parents to be turned into brutal lifelong soldiers. There they eat boiled feet (?), are made to recite prayers that lose all meaning, and suffer constantly brutality under at the hands of the Redeemers. The book moves from the Sanctuary to the world at large, which is terrifying and awful in its indulgences rather than its depredations. The ambiguous quasi-historical nature of the book is intriguing, if occasionally puzzling, while some of the plot holes in the cultural fabrics that inhabit the world is puzzling in a more aggravating way. We’re told that the children eat terribly (and the feet of cadavers, potentially), yet they grow strong. The world’s most powerful nation is made up of heavily armored nobles that refuse to field archers or siege weapons, but have virtually conquered the world. These strange points annoy me, and perhaps will be answered later, but for now are quizzical stray steps from and otherwise dark quirky world.
Story
The story progresses linearly, with certain plot points withheld until they become relevant. Other plot points are dangled at astute readers, but end up resulting in nothing. Hopefully, this is because they become relevant in a sequel, but it’s frustrating when they’re handled so brazenly. As for the parcels of story that come abruptly, the characters reluctance to disclose their full past is well-explained, but a few times this lack of information comes across as cheap. It’s easy to forgive a bit of chicanery, as the characters are interesting. The protagonist struggles between the harsh lessons of his life and the emerging gentler visions he sees. His comrades are amusing, though more archetypal than well-developed. The plot whisks along fast- sometimes too fast. Again, huge plot points drop on the reader like exposition filled anvils from the sky. It’s unsubtle, but it keeps the book from being dull. The climax itself is bizarrely devoid of anything but forced character involvement and oddly precise compared to the brutal and visceral violence early in the book. Yet, the aftermath of the book sets up a sequel in an interesting, and unexpected, way.
Overall
B-. As with many fantasy series, this book exists as much to set the stage as tell a story on its own. Despite my gripes, I found myself liking the story more the more I read. Similar to The Darkness That Comes Before the book is not without its faults, but it does plenty enough to pique my curiosity for reading its sequel. Check for a contest to give away some free copies of the novel.
The Left Hand of God Contest
You may have read the preceding review, or you may not have. It doesn’t matter either way, because you can play the contest regardless. The book’s title sound suitably fantasyish, doesn’t it? Well, that my friends is the basis of our contest. Come up with a description for “The Left Hand of God” to be used in an RPG setting. If it impresses our judges enough, you win a copy of the novel! You can make it a plot hook, crunch it out as a 4E item, or even make it an NPC (perhaps it can hang out with the Atropal). Just leave your entry in a comment (or a link to your entry in a comment) to enter.
Contest opens today and ends by the end of Friday, August 20th. Panel of judges will select their top 5 entries, and each of those entrants will win a copy of the novel Left Hand of God. Entrants must provide a valid email address to be eligible so we can contact the winners. Entries can be disqualified at our sole discretion (especially if they infringe upon existing content.)
Just A Geek (And Forty Thousand Other Geeks)
I just spent the last five days in Indianapolis, as I do every year, among my people. This year, one of our high priests was in attendance, disseminating the gospel of gaming to the masses. I like putting it like that, because it makes it sound like the person in question is an elitist, pretentious ass. Any of you who have had the pleasure to meet Wil Wheaton understand he’s the antithesis of a pompous ass. In fact, I’m pretty sure trying to prevent himself from getting con crud wasn’t the reason Wil didn’t want anybody to touch him this year. I think he got word that the biggest jerk in the world was going to be at Gen Con. If they’d touched, it would be like matter touching antimatter, and the entire Midwest would have been wiped off the globe. He has saved us all.
I’m sure many of you out there have stories about meeting Wil this year. This is mine.
I originally had plans Friday morning to go to a World of Warcraft TCG tournament. When I found out Wil would be speaking, I decided my Orgrimmar shaman rush deck could get completely torn apart another time. I made the right choice. I was pretty astounded at the size of the line to get in. I got there about 45 minutes early, and before long the line extended all the way out of the Westin grand ballroom, around the upstairs lobby, and out into the skywalk leading to the convention hall. The part of me that used to get upset when people would hate on Wesley Crusher was doing a merry jig.
Wil’s talk was amazing. He talked about how gaming helped him through the gauntlet of his school years. He talked about how gaming was the mortar that held the most important relationships of his life together. He talked about teaching values to his children through gaming. He encouraged us all to keep doing what we all love most, to dispel the negative stereotypes and welcome others into our world, and to make the world a better place 1d20 at a time.
I’m not going to lie, I left that room feeling pretty damn good about being a gaming blogger. Additionally, I’ve also been struggling recently with writer’s block, and Wil made me realize something important: it doesn’t matter as much what I write about so much as why. I felt renewed purpose and fire in my belly again, and I wanted to thank him.
Fortunately, I would have the opportunity to do so in the exhibit hall at the end of a giant, slow-moving line. I would later discover why that line was moving slowly – the man takes the time to talk to everyone. Even me. When it was my turn, I told him I wrote for Critical Hits (since he mentioned this one time that he reads us), and he said he loved the site and that it helped his game mastering skills and thanked me. Sorry, Wil. I may have been somewhat disingenuous. My official role here at Critical Hits is to do the potty humor and Mega Man game reviews. Despite this, I did still have the writer’s block, and so I thanked him for getting me on my feet again. He gave me some advice a friend gave him when he had the same trouble: to give yourself permission to keep going, and to write for your audience even if you don’t feel like writing for yourself. At least, that’s what I got out of it. Every neuron was fried with too much awesome. I’m sure he said more. I’m sure his friend had a name. All I knew is that one of my childhood (and later adulthood) heroes just took the time to personally help me out. I felt like I was talking to a kindred spirit. A friend.
Naturally, I had to take one of the most excellent experiences of my adult life and blow it at some point.
As you may have heard, Wil had asked that everyone give him one of their gaming dice. In his talk, he mentioned that he wanted to know if there was a story behind these dice. I had such a die. I had a ridiculous story to tell. And I remembered that I had both of these about two seconds after the guy running the line at the autograph table asked me to move on.
In retrospect, the smart thing to do would have been to drop the die in the cup, tell Wil thanks, and walk off feeling good about the universe. But no, I just had to tell my story. It’s a very good story. It’s the tale of my heavy metal bard and how he did the deed on top of the legendary Tarrasque, eventually conceiving a child. Told right, it moves people to tears and inspires works of art. I had visions of Wil snort-laughing and Felicia Day high-fiving me for being super rad. However, given that I only had three seconds, I blurted out something along the lines of “OKAY I WILL MAKE THIS QUICK THIS DIE HAS A STORY AND THAT STORY IS THAT I CONCEIVED A CHILD ON TOP OF THE TARRASQUE”.
Wil looks at me and says, “uh huh…” in a very polite way, as I am shuffled away to let the next person through. Well, of course he did. I turned into that guy. And I realized something very important. Just as Gamera is the Friend to All Children, Wil Wheaton is the Friend to All Gamers. I genuinely believe the guy would hang out with every last one of us if he could, but he’s loved by so many that it’s just not possible. Also, there is that problem with his nuclear fire and impenetrable carapace.
So, anyway. Wil, if you’re reading this….. well, sorry about being a toolbox there at the end. And really, thanks for the advice, and for dispelling my writer’s block. Even my rolling a 1 in your presence made me want to write.
Logan Bonner’s Gen Con Schedule
(Such as it is)
I’ve scheduled very few events for Gen Con 2010. I want to play it by ear, and expect I’ll run into plenty of people even without making many plans. If you want to find me, I’ve included a picture of myself and the WB bag I’ll be carrying around. See the schedule below the gallery.
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- Logan Bonner prepares to fry a Locust at Comic-Con. Or maybe just a dude in a Locust suit. Whatever.
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- The bag I’ll be carrying at Gen Con 2010
Wednesday, Aug. 4
11:49 PM: Arrive in Indy, find room, go to bed
Thursday, Aug. 5
1:00 PM–2:00 PM: Veterans’ Advice on Game and Story Design panel (tentative; I have a potential conflict)
Friday, Aug. 6
8:00 AM–10:00 AM: Private seminar
11:00 AM–Noon: Wil Wheaton’s Panel
6:00 PM–10:00 PM: The Ennie Awards (tentative)
Saturday, Aug. 7
9:00 AM–10:00 AM: What’s Coming from Open Design panel (I’ll actually be ON this panel, talking about The Lost City a bit.)
10:00 AM–Noon: WotC Preview Seminar (if I can find a seat)
Noon–2:00 PM: Dark Sun Seminar (but I won’t be on the panel, sadly)
2:00 PM–6:00 PM: Savage Worlds game with Rob Heinsoo and friends.
8:00 PM–9:00 PM: The Guild panel (maybe)
Sunday, Aug. 8
4:40 PM: Leaving the con early, sadly.
