Name your poison

Another quick story from D&D last week
When the first encounter started and everyone rolled initiative, I went around the table asking for characters' names so I could write them next to their initiative results. Since it was the first night, not everyone was totally ready. Jason hadn't named his character yet.

Flashback: About 10 years ago when we started playing our first 3e campaign in Seattle, we had that same moment. Stan! hadn't named his gnome character, and was futzing around for one at the last minute. Dave, former editor of Dungeon and Dragon magazines, said, "The punishment is that we call you something like Blobbo. If you don't come up with a name soon, that name will stick, and then we'll all call you that for the rest of the campaign."

Realizing this horrible truth, Stan! quickly devised Herumann, who went on to become a beloved curmudgeon and coward, hopelessly attempting to interject common sense into a rotating cast of D&D adventurers for the next several years.

Sadly, Blobbo stuck anyway. The name followed Herumann at a respectful distance for the rest of his career.

Jason's character was briefly named Blobbo last Thursday, because he wanted to take the time to come up with a campaign-appropriate elf name. (+50 experience points!) I didn't even try to make Blobbo stick. The name has enough stickiness all by itself.

Bonus Story: After the Blobbo incident, I moved onto Dave (a different Dave), who hadn't named his character yet either. Fearing the worst, Dave blurted out "Paul Oakenfold!"

Sure, technically, that name is already taken, but if you complain about D&D players stealing names, you have outed yourself as a solid n00b.

D&D: New campaign kickoff

Started my brand new D&D campaign tonight. If you've been following my blog spoor for the last year, you might have noticed I've been screwing around with a wiki for this thing. Now, open for business!

I've spent a hella lot of time laying groundwork and spelling out rules, and it's still not done.

Important Lesson: You're never really done.

But it was surprisingly thorough. I'm methodical as a tornado when I write. I blow through town and look back once I'm done. Sometimes I've hit everything, and other times I've left whole blocks mysteriously untouched. I don't have a system. I just make up stuff until some outside constraint makes me stop.

So going in, I didn't know whether I'd written enough to make tonight work. But then I said, "Well, in the wiki..." about a dozen times in answer to questions. So I think I got all the vital stuff in.

Important Lesson: Don't worry about getting it all right. It's a game you're playing with friends.

Important Lesson: Just because it's in the text doesn't mean anyone else knows it's there.

I made the experience point totals for level gain a little higher, using a conglomeration of different Pathfinder experience gain rates. Then I told them that I'd award extra XP for people who enable group enjoyment by doing out-of-game things to make things more fun. The player who takes notes or handles mapping or draws a group shot or takes pics of minis gets an XP bonus. I hoped to encourage players to be creative and contribute on their own terms instead of doing all the work solo. This idea was poo-pooed, so it might not last.

Instead, I might use a variation on Sean Reynolds's Alternative Level Advancement System. I like Sean's idea, but changing your character every single session is too much paperwork in an already paperwork-heavy game.

Important Lesson: Adults with kids don't necessarily have the giveadamn to write character journals. In the long run, a bennie meant to encourage participation could begin to feel like a penalty on people who don't want to participate.

I thought having the rules online would be a good way to get everything out to the players so I wouldn't have to be the sole source of information. Also I hoped it would require me to lug fewer books to the game.

But the concept is a little ahead of the group's hardware capacity. Nobody brought a laptop or usable wireless device to let them look up stuff. We wound up using books anyway, which don't quite mesh with the fifty-'leben ways I've tweaked the d20/Pathfinder rules sets.

Important Lesson: Oops.

After a lot of shuffling papers and answering questions, characters were done, except for the niggling details that no one ever firms up until the third game anyway. I thought that'd be it. Good work everybody, see you in two weeks.

No! They demanded we play tonight! Begin tonight! Begin fighting! Tonight!

Since one of our regulars was absent, I didn't want to get too deep into the first adventure. So I used the time-tested, beloved pacing device DMs and comic book writers have used for decades. I threw in a combat. It wasn't meaningless, but it was off the cuff.

Important Lesson: Come more prepared than you think you'll need. And come prepared to improvise.

Hair-raising self portrait

As my hair thins, it inexplicably tapers to a fauxhawk.


It also gives me the eyes of a stone cold killer. The moral is you seriously need to watch out for bald dudes. They have been through the woods, and they came out on the other side with an axe and a lot of fucking horizontal trees.