Post by friartook on Mar 31, 2016 19:01:07 GMT
No, this post is not about my amazing kids. Its about my amazing players.
About 2.5 years ago, I was trolling the podcastverse looking for interesting things to listen to while at work. I stumbled across the D&D Podcast and the Penny Arcade AP sessions. I found that my favorite author, Patrick Rothfuss, played in these, so I had to listen. The nostalgia was fierce. So fierce I went over to my parents' garage attic and unpacked my old D&D books. I started thumbing through them and wondered if I could get a group together.
I brought it up to a couple friends. I did it in that way one does when one wants to have the out of pretending a proposition was a joke (in the immortal words of Nelly, "I got a pole in the basement/Nah, I'm just kidding/Unless you gonna do it..."). Well, my friends were interested. None of them had ever played any TTRPGs before. None of them had any experience as actors, or LARPers or anything that would inform a TTRPG experience beyond RPG video games.
After some roster shuffling, false starts, attendance issues and various other common issues, we got a campaign going.
We are now over 2 years in. Our second campaign, this one in Fantasy Flight's Star Wars: Edge of the Empire game, is coming to an end in the next couple weeks. Last session, I did a brief prelude to our upcoming session 0 for our next campaign. It ate up half our session. I started with a speech inspired by the DM's Block's most recent episodes with Ed Greenwood. I submitted to my players that we were doing something bigger than playing a game; more significant than a round of Monopoly or an extended session of Skyrim. I submitted that we were tapping into ancient human rites; collaborative oral storytelling. I submitted the notion that if our table was a fire pit and my friend's apartment a damp cave, then what we have been doing is very similar to what our most ancient ancestors were doing thousands of years ago.
They blew my mind. They all had character ideas. They all wanted to hear about the world I had created. More than that; they wanted to help build out aspects of that world. They said variations of, "Yeah, we're ok with going back to D&D. But we'd like there to be less combat. We like the narrative style we've been playing in." They all want to tell stories. One person even asked if they could be let in on the type of story I wanted to tell, so that they could go along with it more and not "burst the seams of the story" (his words). I will leave off my barbed comments about all the story cues I provide EVERY SINGLE SESSION-NO!
This is the Stories of Awesomeness forum, not DM Problems forum. And this is a story of awesomeness.
Because I am proud. I'm proud of my guys. How they've grown as role players. How they've engaged in the hobby. Their dedication in showing up at 10:00pm on a Tuesday every week and losing sleep to play. I'm also proud of myself. I'm proud of the fact that I was good enough to keep them at the table. That I've crafted stories they care about, and want more of. That I've dealt with all THEIR BS EVERY WEEK-NO! Breath. Keep it positive.
Most of all, I'm proud of our games, our stories, and our table. I'm proud to say that I think most anyone would want to be a part of our table. I'm proud to say that when our group eventually dissolves (as most groups must) each of these friends of mine will, either overtly or in their secret hearts, be searching for a new table to join.
About 2.5 years ago, I was trolling the podcastverse looking for interesting things to listen to while at work. I stumbled across the D&D Podcast and the Penny Arcade AP sessions. I found that my favorite author, Patrick Rothfuss, played in these, so I had to listen. The nostalgia was fierce. So fierce I went over to my parents' garage attic and unpacked my old D&D books. I started thumbing through them and wondered if I could get a group together.
I brought it up to a couple friends. I did it in that way one does when one wants to have the out of pretending a proposition was a joke (in the immortal words of Nelly, "I got a pole in the basement/Nah, I'm just kidding/Unless you gonna do it..."). Well, my friends were interested. None of them had ever played any TTRPGs before. None of them had any experience as actors, or LARPers or anything that would inform a TTRPG experience beyond RPG video games.
After some roster shuffling, false starts, attendance issues and various other common issues, we got a campaign going.
We are now over 2 years in. Our second campaign, this one in Fantasy Flight's Star Wars: Edge of the Empire game, is coming to an end in the next couple weeks. Last session, I did a brief prelude to our upcoming session 0 for our next campaign. It ate up half our session. I started with a speech inspired by the DM's Block's most recent episodes with Ed Greenwood. I submitted to my players that we were doing something bigger than playing a game; more significant than a round of Monopoly or an extended session of Skyrim. I submitted that we were tapping into ancient human rites; collaborative oral storytelling. I submitted the notion that if our table was a fire pit and my friend's apartment a damp cave, then what we have been doing is very similar to what our most ancient ancestors were doing thousands of years ago.
They blew my mind. They all had character ideas. They all wanted to hear about the world I had created. More than that; they wanted to help build out aspects of that world. They said variations of, "Yeah, we're ok with going back to D&D. But we'd like there to be less combat. We like the narrative style we've been playing in." They all want to tell stories. One person even asked if they could be let in on the type of story I wanted to tell, so that they could go along with it more and not "burst the seams of the story" (his words). I will leave off my barbed comments about all the story cues I provide EVERY SINGLE SESSION-NO!
This is the Stories of Awesomeness forum, not DM Problems forum. And this is a story of awesomeness.
Because I am proud. I'm proud of my guys. How they've grown as role players. How they've engaged in the hobby. Their dedication in showing up at 10:00pm on a Tuesday every week and losing sleep to play. I'm also proud of myself. I'm proud of the fact that I was good enough to keep them at the table. That I've crafted stories they care about, and want more of. That I've dealt with all THEIR BS EVERY WEEK-NO! Breath. Keep it positive.
Most of all, I'm proud of our games, our stories, and our table. I'm proud to say that I think most anyone would want to be a part of our table. I'm proud to say that when our group eventually dissolves (as most groups must) each of these friends of mine will, either overtly or in their secret hearts, be searching for a new table to join.
