On D&D and the Freedom of Epiphany

I've been playing tabletop roleplaying games since my age was measured in single digits. It's been an integral part of my identity for 75+% of the time I've been alive. Despite all of this, I often feel left out when it comes to people discussing their D&D Epiphanies. Those "this game is so amazing, how did I live my entire life without it" moments that people who took up the game as adults get to experience. That sense of eye-opening wonder that seems to permeate every new player post on Reddit. I never got to feel that, because I found D&D as a child who had just begun to really possess abstract thought. There was no Eureka moment. It's always just been there.

I assume this is how people with famous siblings feel. To those folks, their siblings are just their siblings. For the most part, at least. People making a big deal out of it, like "Oh my G-d, your sister is the lead singer of Muscle Wizard? That's so fucking awesome!". Yeah, I know. She also beat me up when I was 12 for listening to an N*Sync CD, so... not that awesome.

I'm exceptionally envious of people who get to experience this novelty at an age when they can appreciate it. It's actively difficult to not be dismissive when I hear stories about people in their early 30s discovering D&D. Hearing about how it's opened their eyes to a fanciful world of magic and all that. People who got to avoid the social negatives of the game. Folks who get to dodge the worry of getting beat up for carrying a weird book to school. It's self centered and ludicrous and stupid for me to feel this way, but that doesn't make me feel that way any less. The spiteful hipster gene in my blood is far, far too strong.

It's probably the same for anyone who got into a particular fandom early. Those people who watched Firefly religiously while it was live on TV. The folks who were *really* into Euro-style boardgames back in the 80s when the only way to get them was to get someone on Usenet to mail you a copy and (if you were super lucky) provide translations into your native language. Or people who traded bootleg VHS tapes of anime at swap meets and flea markets back in the 90s. Folks who pronounce the initialism of All Terrain Armored Transport "@@", because that's how the Kenner Toys commercial pronounced it back in 1981.

With all that said, I'm overjoyed that people continue to discover tabletop roleplaying games in general and D&D in specific. I'm super happy that they get to have those epiphanies. It's miraculous and wonderful and magicaltastic.

That doesn't make me any less envious, though.

League of Legends

I really don't understand LoL.

Cards & Dice & Beans & Taters

I was told that I need to make sure to update this as frequently as possible, even if I don't have anything specific to write about. Gotta keep the creative nonsense going and all that.

Thinking about the randomization agent I mentioned in my last post has brought up a story about Ye Olde Days and an experiment I ran on my players in those times. In those days, we played D&D 3.5 primarily. I was running a Dragonlance game, because that's the beloved setting that I felt like ruining that week. I was constantly introducing new Rules Chicanery back in those days; each time a new splatbook came out, new optional rules were needlessly shoehorned into the game.

The week in question, it was Prerolling. I don't remember which book this came out in (probably Unearthed Arcana; that's where I got most of my awesomely terribad ideas), but I do remember it seeming like a fantastic idea at the time. Each session, the players would roll 20 times with a d20. They'd record each of these on a sheet and then put away their d20. Any time they'd normally have to roll a d20 for a check, they'd instead choose from their recorded results. When they chose one, they'd cross it off the sheet. When they ran out of listed rolls, they'd have to start the process over again. It was marginally successful, but several players revolted and we never used that method again after that session.

What I learned from that experience is that in a game like D&D 3.5, there are certain expectations which most players take for granted. One of which is that they'll be rolling a d20 for a lot of stuff. I'd infringed on that basic expectation without proper warning. If I'd've announced that rule at the beginning of the campaign, it probably wouldn't've been met with such resistance.

Where is this rambling leading? Well, one thought I'd had about randomization agents were a hand of cards. Each player would draw a hand of 5 cards (with values ranging from 1 to 6) and use those values in place of dice rolling. This puts some of the randomness in the hands of the players, basically allowing them to prioritize their rolls. At any point, a player could "take zero" and proceed with a roll without using a card; thus saving the good cards in their hands from being wasted on a trivial roll.

It might work, it might not. Only playtesting will tell.

-JL