Whenever you can, say “yes.” I think my first instinct is always to say “no.” No, you can’t have another Popsicle. No, I won’t help you clean your room. No, I won’t read you another book. No, I won’t tell you a story * this topic is actually reserved for another post . What if you tried saying “yes.” What’s the worst that’ll happen, if she has another Popsicle? What are you doing rather than helping him clean his room? Can it wait? Why not read another book? Our kids hear “no,” too often, and we should practice saying “yes.”

Everything is important to the PCs (kids) It’s probably not a big deal to you if you take the blue blanket or the pink one, but she’s throwing an ever-loving fit. If it’s really not important to you; try letting them pick once in a while. With the previous one and this one, I’m not advocating “say yes every time,” kids need to learn that they don’t always get their way. But they can sometimes get their way, can’t they?

Listen to your players (kids). Are you half-listening, singing to the music or reading the recipe for the stroganoff? Focus on what they’re saying, and how they’re saying it. Treat it as important, and since they’re kind of new to the world, you may have to go the extra steps of showing that you’re listening by *gasp* making eye contact and repeating back what they’re saying. You know, “good listening” skills.

Keep it simple, even if you’re just getting started. Kids don’t really care if you arrange a huge fantastic trip, like parachuting into the zoo and enjoying the day. All they really want is simple stuff – especially if they’re infants or toddlers. How many parents have you seen with these incredibly ornate parties for their two-year-old? Ponies? Alligators? What’ll you do next year? Keep it simple

You should go take a look at his post. He’s got several more points, and the only one that I think doesn’t directly translate to parenting is “buy a DM screen.” But even that one? Yeah, the kids don’t need to know everything.

Huh. Post 999? Weird.

I have some excellent memories of DnD. One of my least favorite, ok I’ll admit it, player races was the Gnome. It was really only set up for one class- my least favorite “illusionist.” Dammit when I throw a spell, it’s real, ok? Geez. Anyway, apparently I’m not the only one disillusioned with gnomes, because in the fourth edition they’re removing Gnomes from the Player Handbook and replacing it with a Tiefling. In the words of a pal, “the gnomes have been demoted from player race to wandering monster check.”

Poor guys.

Anyway, this is a (funny) (short) video that gives a little more insight as to the change. I guess the gnomes are pretty happy about it. This one called his mom! Anyway, check out the video. It’s the first one on the page.

Flash!

“Players may blunder through dialog with shocking ineptitude, forget the name of the country they are in, or get confused about which side they are on, but once it comes time to roll for initiative they all turn into Sun Tzu.”

In a world where every every idiot with a pirated version if Photoshop™ and a twisted sense of humor thinks he’s a web comic artist, it takes something special to shine above the dross. I’ve been laughing so hard at the DM of the Ring that I think everyone around me wonders what the heck I’ve been drinking. It’s the funniest thing I’ve read today. So far the quote that begins this post is my favorite.

Even the comments are hilarious; this comic focuses on DnD, but one of the comments refers, in a thread about “my dice are trying to kill me”, to a Champions (superhero) game where a player hit a villain for max damage, which knocked the villain out. Knockback bounced the villain into (one bad roll later) another player’s character whose armor did not deflect the “attack” (another bad roll) and who took more damage, and who (another bad die roll) was essentially turned to strawbelly mush after knockback of his own.

And why I hate dice

Got a story up.

I’ll post some XP points shortly

Thanks for the Link

And in other news, google and misspellings are the devil.

It’s nice, being level 2 – we feel accomplished and less fragile.

So, we had most of us there — cept for Cameron, who was visiting relatives. We had a good session (for being on break for 6 weeks); we started by falling into a pit with a large creature. It kept swinging at us, but missing and missing- so we attacked back, and surprise! We all hit. It died, and every one of us (except for Cameron) gained enough XP to become level 5 (shazam!), and a bucket of gold!

Just kidding. I was paid to say that. Hehehe.

Seriously, we were drafted by the Temple of Freya to recover a sacred cauldron. They were attacked by a band of orcs, the temple was set afire, and the cauldron stolen- which is needed for their midwinter’s ceremony (ie, in two weeks). This M.O. was very similar to the wizard who set our inn aflame and stole our magic spoon. Weird, huh?

We found that the orcs had been based in a ruined castle nearby, so we approached. We felt mostly outclassed, and we’ve been developing a plan. At the end of last session, the rogue-sorceror had managed to convey some green slime to the alarm tower (which is made of wood) and destroyed it.

Green Slime (and yellow and brown molds) are no longer creatures, in the third edition of DnD. I suppose that’s OK, just seems odd; they’re “hazards” and they also have a CR and XP value assigned- you just don’t find them in the Monster Manual any more.

Unfortunately, we were missing Duncan, who plays the Sorceror Frosti. He was home sick. In fact, we wound up having a round table
discussion on how to handle missing players. Since Brookes values consistency in her game world, my solution of having the ground open up and swallow them wasn’t appreciated; even when the ground could open up and re-spew them the next session. Rather, we decided to have them zombified; they wouldn’t make decisions or offer help, but could fight / hunt / explore. They’d get half experience points for the session.

Since Frosti wasn’t there, I’ll be a little more descriptive about the game.

With Frosti gone, there was nobody to encourage us to hold on to the keys and not enter the barrow. In theory, we’re following an evil wizard, and he’s disappeared near here (the tracks go into this abandoned village and do not leave.) We’ve found some clues that point to the barrow outside of town as holding an artifact that Surtur (Evil Fire Giant God) desires; and we think the wizard is a follower of Surtur. So the rest of us found the way to open the magic door and we’ve entered.

We’ve allowed Brand to open the door. That’s because nobody else was … eager … to handle the stuff. He held the glowing gem and the runestone in one hand, and sprinkled the Dust of the Dead in front of him. One intense and better-crafted-than-I-can-do special effect later, he had a glowing brand of Surtur’s flaming sword on his palm (ouch!), no runestone, a malevolently glowing red gem and a doorway. We entered, descended the staircase, and was faced with another door. Luckily, there was a socket for the red gem, which opened the doors. We proceeded inward. Oddly, Frosti didn’t say anything.

The the passage eventually opened into a room with doors on the cardinal points (N,E,W,S). We entered from the east. The room had a firepit in the center, charred books and scrolls in the pit, frescoes on the walls. We followed the right wall to the north exit, and began to go down the stairs; loud clanging bells announced us to the entire area. We had stumbled upon a trap! We backed up and moved to the western exit. Oddly, Frosti didn’t say anything.

We moved into the next room; again, circular, exits on the cardinal points. The room had an altar in the center, some glowing fungus growing from some (probably alchemical) stuff spilled on the altar. Experimenting with the fungus wasn’t fruitful (heh). Following the right wall, the first passageway out was completely collapsed. The next, the western exit, ended in a very hot bricked up passage. The southern exit opened to a large room filled with trees (remember, we’re underground!). As we entered the room, Grim in the lead, he was attacked by some foes hidden in the trees and a crossbow bolt was sticking from his shoulder. Brand moved up and helped Grim form and hold a shieldwall as the rest of us moved in to assist. Here, the Zombie Frosti was very useful- he had the ‘killshot’ on three of our four foes. They turned out to be … dwarves, with metallic skin and flaming hair, living in and under metal trees. As they died, their bodies melted into the floor. Oddly, Frosti didn’t say anything.

When I tried to open a discussion with them (“Hi, I’m the bard Roscoe Roadswallow, and this is my backup band, the Swallowers”) they announced that we had invaded the “tomb of Surtur” and that they would defend unto the death, as long as he-who-called-them didn’t send them home. So they didn’t stop attacking us- no matter how often we gave them a chance to surrender. Oddly, Frosti didn’t say anything.

This was an intense, sweat-filled, nerve wracking battle; part of our problem was the two foes in the trees with the crossbows.

When that was over, there was no treasure to be found. We retreated to our sanctuary in the village to recover; as we were leaving, the alarm went off in the northern passage. This gave us the realization that we had left the doors open; the door to the exit and the door with the lock that used the gem to open it. It was obvious to us that someone was in here with us. We rushed out, being completely out of magic and low on health, and both of our main fighters were out of commission. We locked the door behind us, hopefully keeping whomever followed us in there. Oddly, Frosti didn’t say anything.

We returned to the sanctuary, and found it in ruins; someone had shattered the door and rifled through our stuff. We spent an uneasy two days recuperating from the battle.

We returned to the barrow, and back to the “tree room” where we saw that someone had bent one of the trees completely over and had mauled it. The rest of the party waited in there, searching the trees while Grim and I worked our way into a smaller room to the east, which turned out to be connected to the room with the frescos (the southern exit we had never taken). In the trees, they found some golden leaves. Oddly, Frosti didn’t say anything.

hmm, this is becoming very wordy

Past the alarm to the north, we defeated some sort of sightless humanoids who wanted to rip our fresh flesh from our frail forms; they wanted to eat us. Their passages, while interesting, don’t yet seem to be related to the exit to the west, the hot bricked up exit.

The hot, bricked up exit. Grim and Brand battled down the bricks, and entered; this room was very warm. On a black throne near the west wall, was a form in black armor inlaid with designs of Surtur’s flaming sword. On each side was a smoking pot. We moved forward; the heat was oppressive. Grim shot an arrow at the form on the throne (he’s a little impulsive) but at the last moment, the arrow veered to the side; it seemed to be magically deflected. We encouraged Frosti to cast “detect magic,” at which point he announced that the pots were very magical and the form was lesser so- and it was mostly protective magic. We moved closer. Brand opened the visor of the armor; inside was a man. He was not “alive” but not dead either. We’re not sure what his story is. Balthor hosed him down with some holy water. (The fountain that Eilidh cleaned is providing holy water). Nothing changed. So the fighters took off the figure’s armor and tied him up, while the rest of us stood guard. Then on searching the room, another exit was found; behind the throne, to the west. We opened the door ….

And that’s where we left it for next month. Tentative date is May 17, 2PM at David’s apartment.

It’s an interesting reflection on gamers. I’ve been playing on and off with some of these guys for fifteen years; David Tubb and David Duncan, and Erich and Alli I’ve played with for probably ten. So I know they’re practiced. I shouldn’t be surprised when the first level rogue suggests we use the doorway to slow down our foes, or the first level sorceror proves to be adept at planning / reconnaissance. It’s because of the practice of the gamers- if I were to play with someone completely new to the scene, I’d be likely to get impatient and pushy (just roll the die, and Brookes will tell you if you hit, Do you think your rogue can sneak up there and scout it out?.) but then, I’m having a hard time with my little halfling bard and being useful. Something about halflings and usefulness (laugh).

ok here’s what happened…

(enter the wayback machine)

We’ve set up base in this small town; Kiksalu. Our base has been, not the chapel (which apparently has been abandoned, and was dedicated to Freya), but the house attached to the chapel, where we found a Thor’s hammer scratched into the wall and some holy water. Evenings have been quiet, mostly; that “thing” has been leaving us alone (the Thing-that-Grim-Annoyed).

We spent all of last game cleaning out the town; Eilidh has made a personal issue of cleaning out the fountain to Freya (uuuh, why again? Oh yeah, she’s a Freyyan Cleric), and enlisted the help of Balthor and Brand.

We entered a small house that was overgrown with blackberries, and were beset by a GIANT skeleton. When I say “we,” I mean Brand, who successfully blocked the path to the combat until he was defeated, rousted, rendered obsolete. Not dead, per se, but definately unconscious. Eilidh also found herself unconscious that battle. The skeleton was finally finished off by Balthor, Frosti and Grim (I pulled elves out and worked on staunching their bleeding). That battle wound up with us having to rest in the house for two days- long enough to go fairly bug-nuts. But having Eilidh unconscious really put a crimp in our exploring plans. (Can you imagine!? People refused to go look in other houses just because the cleric was out of commission!)

In the house, we found a small sealed surtur-symboled box; inside was a powdery dust, possibly the dust of the dead.

After Eilidh was revived, she spend the next day healing Brand; and the next day, we sallied forth and assailed the next few houses. We encountered a mess of rats- and wollopped em. Frosti and Balthor convinced us to stand outside the building and pick off the rats as they came out. This seemed surprisingly organized for such a chaotic^H^H^H^H^H^Hheadstrong crew. But it worked; no casualties, and many dead rats. They had no treasure.

We found, also, what was apparently the butcher shop. Entering this building, we discovered that the cellar had collapsed and for some weird reason was filled with water. As it turns out, the cellar was filled to the rim because of an uncapped everflowing decanter which Rosco has pocketted, the cellar was the lair of a giant frog. It could have eaten Rosco, and almost did, except for the quick thinking of Frosti and Balthor, who nearly severed the (ugh) tongue. After the frog was defeated (I only know what happed because of the screams; I left the building after I was nearly frogfood), Balthor went swimming in the water, and found a secret cache, beneath the butcher’s block. In there, was what we believe to be the eye of a god, a huge ruby (?ruby?).

We had a confusing, emotional scene where Brand threatened to destroy one or the other of the dust or gem, but eventually he was reined in and seems to be complaisant now.

Actually two scenes. He’s a maniac.

Then, we explored what appears to be the last building of this small town; and I rode a rope into the dark basement below. I tripped over one of those feathered guys- dead. (Frosti reminded me that this body was in the exact center of the room; and searching nearby revealed a stone with Surtur’s flame on it.) He had an interesting black/white/yellow feather combination, but interest in the feathers was overridden by his apparent raison de’ corpeum… flapping death, flying on the wings of disgust; stirges sucked his blood. And they came after us too. I’ve been drained, and we killed the six of them pretty much cleanly afterwards.

Note: a stirge is a flying thing like a cross between a mosquito and a bat. They’re about softball sized and have six legs. They suck your blood, you lose strength. A nest of six stirges can seriously ruin your day.

Anyway, we had another session last Saturday. It went — great. We had it at Cameron’s house. His wife was studying in the back room. I wish I had felt like she knew we didn’t bite, but she was absent for most of the game. I’d hate to be ousted for 10 hours like that. Rosco continues to write his letters though, and you might find them interesting.

I’ve been considering setting up a WIKI sort of interface for discussion about the game- you can see a great wiki on the web. Until I do that, or some other thang, just make a comment (over there, on the bottom right) to comment on the game.