The Dungeon Master of Beginner's Dice

Well, I finally went and did it. I am finally DMing my own game. It's awesome and terrifying. Now, I'm not just telling a story. I'm building a world and asking people to play in it. Play in it, play and hope they enjoy it. I have been wanting to DM my own campaign for quite some time. I had run storylines on roleplay forums before. But something about being a DM in a live game is different.

I started roleplaying back in college. I had a number of DMs who displayed a number of different playing styles. And after a while, I knew that I wanted to run my own game. However, I was too scared. Too self conscious. I didn't know the rules well enough to be comfortable running a game with my friends, who had more experience than me. I wasn't as familiar with fantasy or fantasy settings as the rest of my friends were. I always believed there had to be a perfect streamlined story which everyone was to follow and I did not believe that I could come up with something that anyone would enjoy. So I never opted to run a game. Just sat and wished; until finally one day I decided to just do it, fear and all.

Firstly, being a DM is way more time consuming that I had believed it was going to be when I decided that I was going to do this. Partially because of my perfectionist disposition and partially because I wasn't entirely in the know about what a DM had to do in order to run a campaign. But mostly because I took it upon myself to design the entire world from nothing. Because why make it easy on myself, right? The writer in me wanted to create and world build. This is where I have the most fun as a DM. Designing people, places, structures and ruling powers. Making an intricately complex, living, breathing landscape. I could get lost in it for hours. But this takes a lot of time. And I have to make decisions on what parts in this world are more important, meaning they will be completed first. I won't lie, I was very overwhelmed when I started out. I mean, how do you create an entire world from a blank sheet of paper? But I found out that you don't. Not at first. First, you start off small. You make a village, then a town, then a small city and continue from there as the group explores. Once I learned that, world building for the game became much easier to manage.

The terrifying part of running a game for me is the uncertainty that comes with preparing for the unpredictable. I was completely under the impression that DMs knew exactly what would happen at all times and had a plan for everything that would happen during the session. I quickly came to understand that was an illusion. I don't know what the players are going to do from one moment to the next. I don't know if they will take the plot hook. I don't know how they are going to interact with the NPCs. Or if they will even head in the direction that I have set up. For all I know, they could end up on some uncharted path that I had not given any thought to in the least. But it is this uncertainty that makes the game exciting for me as DM. The players don't know what the plan is. So they could be surprised at any moment. I don't know how my players are going to react to what I have planned. So I too could be surprised at any moment. So, instead of being anxious about it, I try to stay open and as flexible as possible.

My thinking like a DM has been slowly evolving as well. As a writer, I have complete control of the entire story. A story that centers on a cast of characters that I have constructed to fit seamlessly into my narrative. But now, I am more focused on the players and trying to figure out what would be awesome for their characters. Trying to make a narrative that everyone can participate in and feel a vested interest. I never had a "cool" character when I roleplayed. I was always outshined by someone else in the group. Someone was always faster, louder, more charasmatic, or better at minmaxing the dice. And I never played campaigns long enough for my character to have goals or something to obtain or aspire to. My character was simply just another body in the group. I don't want that feeling for any of my players. I want each person to feel like they have their moments in the spotlight. To feel like their characters matter in the story they are playing through.

 I am not sure how long this campaign will last or how often we will play. But I am very glad that I got over my self consciousness and I did this. It is a different feel, writing something for others to mess around with. Being flexible and thinking on my feet for several hours at a time. And to watch others interact with what you have put together. I am going to have as much fun as I possibly can and hopefully those who are coming along with me on this journey will have just as much fun as I am.

The Day the Dragon Came Again

For the past several months, I have been in love with a Twitch show called Critical Role. And of course it wasn't going to be long before I couldn't stop myself from writing some fan fiction. If you have not gotten to Episode 40, then be warned that this has some light spoilers. Hope you enjoy. And check out Critical Role live on Twitch on Thursday nights 7pm PST.

It was late. The only remaining light was the ominous orange burn coming from the distance, clawing at the stained glass along the temple walls. Exhaustion sank itself into every one. Every man, woman and child. And yet, all anyone of them could manage were fitful and restless bouts of sleep, plagued by horror and nightmares. And even that evaded some, forcing them to lie awake and relive the horror over and over again.

He stood there silently, tucked away in the shadows. He looked at the disheveled group who now called Greyskull Keep their refuge. The few who had escaped the wrath of the Chroma Conclave. Unlike the others outside the gates, whose terror stricken visages were on display. A cruel menagerie of tormenting reminders. Here they were, huddled heaps of dismay, desperation and loss, wrapped up in whatever blankets could be found. But it wasn’t them, the few of them, who drew his attention. It was only one. One person lying in the midst of that misery.

Vax wanted to step forward, step out of the shadows, move towards him. But he couldn’t. His feet, which normally flew ever so quickly, were now leaden and kept him staunchly in place. Kept him there, in the dark, hiding from what was in front of him.  A mere handful of hours ago, Gilmore had been a sight to behold. As he always was. Best of robes, crushed blue velvet in color. Curly raven black hair held neatly in place. And that ever present wide smile that decorated a beautifully handsome face. With him, it was always about presentation. But not now, not any more. The dragons had come. Just like before, with fire, terror and destruction.

Vax simply watched from his dark corner. Watched and thought. He had been no more of a help tonight as he would have been to his mother on the night her home had faced the same fate. The robes now slashed, burned and stained with blood. The curly hair now stuck to a feverish and pale face. Someone else who Vax cared deeply for was almost torn from him by the same monster who had taken from him before. What had Vax been doing all of this time? Yes, he had grown. Yes, he had learned. Yes, he was a man now, a powerful man. A powerful man with powerful friends. But what had that done for Emon? What had that done for Gilmore?

Gilmore’s head shifted on the pillow underneath it. With eyes still closed, his lips parted.

“Someone is brooding very loudly over there.”

Though weak, the deepness of Gilmore’s voice still sounded solid. And calming. Vax’s first instinct was to quietly walk away. To not face this lump building in his throat. Not here. Not with Gilmore. However, walking away after tonight, after what had almost happened, felt worse.

“I thought you would be asleep,” Vax replied in a low voice.

Gilmore slowly opened his eyes and turned his head as the half-elf approached. Even though Vax was now standing where Gilmore could see him, he might as well have brought the shadows with him as somber as his face appeared.

“Oh my, such sad eyes and heavy shoulders.”

Vax didn’t answer.  Vax didn’t want to speak. Being this close, imagining what could have happened if Pike had not been there. The ache in his chest crushed his lungs with every breath. The growing hollow in his stomach was swallowing him piece by piece. It was another day the dragon had came. What had he been doing all this time?

“Nothing has changed, Gilmore,” Vax finally sputtered out, doing everything he could to keep his voice even, “Nothing at all. The most important people in my life and I can’t…”

Vax stopped, clenching his jaw before he continued on, “You were right in front me and all I could do was sit there…”

“My dear Vax’ildan,” Gilmore whispered, “Come. Sit with me now.”

Vax sat on the edge of the bed, head falling forward as he stared at the stone tiles of the temple floor, “How much will this Cinder King take, Gil? How much more is it going to rip away from me?”

There was silence. A silence weighed down by everything that wanted to be said, but there were no words for them. Vax felt a gentle warmth as Gilmore’s hand slowly slid over his own. The corners of Vax’s eyes burned as he blinked back the watery blur that was beginning to distort his vision.

 “This is where I am supposed to tell you everything is going to be fine. That we will find a way out of this. But honestly, I don’t know that to be true. Even I have doubts at this point. But what I do know is that you have always survived. Beyond all odds, you, Vax, always survive. This is no different.”

Vax shifted his gaze and peered at the ruggedly handsome face that weakly grinned back at him. Still grinning, because it was always about presentation. Vax shifted his hand so that Gilmore’s fingers fell between his. This close, Vax could smell the familiar scent of incense that usually permeated Gilmore’s clothing intertwined with smoke, sweat and blood.

“I hope you don’t believe that. That all I care about is simply my survival.”

“Then obviously something has changed then.”

Vax slowly leaned down and gently laid his forehead against Gilmore’s.

“I’m going to protect you,” Vax whispered earnestly, “I swear it on my life.”

“Good,” Gilmore whispered back.

Reminiscing about the days of make believe

Once upon a time, when times were different, a girl was handed her first set of dice.  Little did I know that night was going to open the door to something that I would enjoy being part of for years to come.

The first time I got invited to a roleplaying session, I remember my reaction quite vividly. I wrinkled my nose, twisted my lip and said no without a second thought. I didn't want anything to do with sitting around and pretending that I was casting a spell or some such nonsense. I could think of better ways to spend my weekends. However, I am guessing that was not the first time a reaction like mine had been given, because I was asked again. This time, it was to just sit and observe. If I didn't like what I saw, then I would never asked again. I went, prepared to be underwhelmed and practicing my rejection speech in my head. These were my friends, after all. No need to be nasty.

They pulled out pencils and character sheets, books and guides. Then the discussion of who they were to become started. I am not sure what it was about the character creation process that tapped into my curiosity. The thought that went into crafting a character, making a person that you were to play, it was like making a character for a performance that was happening in real time. And perform they did. Perform we did.

From that moment on, roleplaying became an almost weekly ritual. In the same way people got dressed up and went out to bars and clubs, I grabbed my bag of dice and headed to a friend's house to immerse myself in a world of make believe. I credit a large amount of my ability create characters and build worlds to those nights where I sat on couches, drinking Mountain Dew and eating Papa Johns, listening to the elaborate setups and situations our characters found themselves in. Imagining city streets and back alleys, weighing words of NPCs, wondering if they were friend or foe, always thinking "What would my character do?".

Unfortunately, time changes things. Too soon I was packing up my life and moving forward with it. All of my roleplaying circle did much the same and our nights together are now nothing more than fond memories I replay in my head from time to time. Like old home movies stored away in a dusty beaten up box somewhere. Fighting enemies, solving puzzles, battling in arenas, arguing amongst ourselves, buying my first set of dice, being taken to my first game shop, looking at figurines, so many good memories from those times I would have missed out on because of a preconceived notion that wasn't even mine to begin with.

I miss those days now. I miss them a lot.

Daily Write - Run and Live

Once upon a time, I dreamed of being a DM. I even put together pieces for a campaign that I wanted to try and run. But alas, that dream was never realized and those notes were just stacked in a corner with the rest of the good ideas that I have had and never actually used. So this was supposed to be meeting that the group would have early on in the campaign to get things started off.

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I had not expected to have this meeting with you quite this soon. But desperate situations have forced my hand and caused the need for me to reveal myself to you. Fates preserve us, you are still so young. Barely able to stand on your own two feet. But I suppose it cannot be helped. Things are about to happen and you need to understand what has been set in motion in order to act accordingly.

It wasn’t always like this. Times have changed and changed drastically. For many generations, this land was governed with strength and wisdom. Then the Black came from the Wastes, devouring everything in its wake. The Knights of Flame had been all but defeated by the Lotus Queen and her Deathwalkers. And as the Knights were pushed farther and farther back, the Queen only strengthened her power, exacting her will on everyone with the misfortune of being in her path.

It was the beginning of dark days. A time where hope no longer existed, being trodden upon with every defeat the Queen exacted. Her Deathwalkers destroyed everything, leaving cinders and ash where thriving communities had existed for years. The people, once proud and unbending, bowed knee to their new ruler, vowing submission and loyalty through gritted teeth.  There was no other choice. Those who opposed fled in order to not to have their tongues removed from their skulls and eyes burned out with heated pokers.  And then there were those who hid themselves in clandestine dark corners, whispering of returning the days of old.

This is where you become involved. You were raised to believe that your parents had abandoned you soon after your birth. That you had been brought to this village of Cherrywood Falls to see that you were not left to fend through life alone. As you may have pieced together by now, this was not the entire truth. The Lotus Queen’s reach had yet to extend to the Northern forests, and Cherrywood sits right in the middle of it. That is why we hid you and others like you here. Those who were born with the natural ability to bend the Weave to their will. It was the hope of the Knights that, with training, you would lead the attack against the Queen, ending her reign from this land once and for all. It was to take years, but we were willing to wait.

But that hope too has been all but been dashed to cinders. The Queen has heard of the existence of children who hold a power stronger than her own, hiding right outside of her reach. As we speak, she is sending her Deathwalkers to the forest, looking for you. Looking to destroy any trace that people like you could ever exist. Hoping to squash the uprising before it ever starts.

Now, you must leave Cherrywood, leave the Northern forest, run and hide. You cannot let these Deathwalkers find you. And above all else, you must live. The Lotus Queen cannot be defeated by anyone else but you and those who share in your ability. If you are lost, then all has been lost.

More about what I do online

So for those who don't know, last month I was made Columns Editor at Unsung Heroes (www.the-ush.com). And while that might not have shocked anyone else, it was definitely a huge shock to me. In just about one year's time, I went from being no one to being an editor. I had my reservations about accepting the position. I have a pretty busy life and things are only going to get busier. However, I took this as something that would break up the monotony of what my every day life has to be bring me.


Speaking of the USH, I got another review up for this month. I took at look at Romantically Apocalyptic. You can click this link and see what my thoughts were on that particular webcomic. One thing that I will say, the art is really fantastic. I am hoping to get back to doing podcasts, but we will see how that goes. Life just got really crazy for both me and Frankie since April and things are just starting to settle back down. Hopefully we can crank out enough for summer time and wish for the best when fall comes. It would be so much easier if we lived in the same place. But, work with what you got.


I find it odd that the moment I become Column Editor, we get two new columnists. One of them debuted today and the other is still in the works. So if any of you happen to like DnD and want to learn how to make a rogue tank (I know, boggles the mind, right?) head over to the site and read the first installment of Natural Twenties. I can definitely say that I was hooked by it and I'm not saying that because of bias.


Brainstorming for UnSung is happening and I have no idea if I'm going to ride this train or watch it pull out of the station. My skeptic and my optimist are definitely at war with one another (again).I guess only time is going to tell on this one. For right now, I am going to sit on Team Skeptic and just do what it is that I'm in charge of. If I'm wrong, then I will switch sides.