Hack For More

WEEK 11: 05/08/04

Well, we managed to game this week, despite a slight delay incurred when Seth had to get a little bit of dental surgery that left him all goofy on Thursday. Something to do with wisdom teeth, they tell me. I'll skip the obvious puns, thank you.

We started off with me realizing that I'd lost Laura's character sheet. Now, there was a certain amount of finger-pointing and people wondering if this was really an accident, but I think in the end we were all better off, and Laura rolled up a cheery little magic user named Beth. ("Hi. My name is Beth. I'm an alcoholic and I like to cast Magic Missile.")

We began the game five minutes before the end of the previous session; Erich even kindly told the same jokes for us as Seth helplessly watched the burning brand arch towards the inn before giving a hearty toot on his whistle seconds before Erich created water around the torch, extinguishing it. A brief chase ensued, which was ended when Seth trod upon a caltrop and called it a night.

The players proceeded to heal, then ventured back to the dungeon, accompanied by their ever-growing menagerie of animals, now including a peacock named Yamara. (Yamara, of course being the old Dragonmirth comic that is easily better than any other comic about gaming [rather than gamers] ever; better even, I feel, than "Phil and Dixie", the only really good old Dragon comic to survive in any form these days. My favorite line: "I've been letting them worship [you] in my church, but you know, it's very bad form." I was lucky enough to score a copy of the old Steve Jackson Games anthology; I think there may have been another book, and if anyone knows about it, for God's sake, let me know too.)

The party wandered about and found a rack of a dozen potions and a magical spatula of healing (which Laura thought was a weapon, and claimed for her own) before walking into a squad of Southern League Orcs (here Erich put the fight theme from Kill Bill volume I on, for our listening enjoyment), and a short discussion ensued about the nature of a combat round, which I gather represents a sort of intricate ballet of melee during which the actual hit is scored. Even if it's two guys fighting with clubs, this is the case, which lead us to imagine a delicate ballet involving peg arms. From here, we got off topic and onto a discussion of the whale-like aliens in the West End Star Wars game, the, uh, Herglics (had to go and dig out my copy of the Thrawn Trilogy sourcebook for that one), who look like angry Beluga whales and are compulsive gamblers. We theorized that a Jedi Herglic wouldn't need an R2 unit for the lightsaber chucking stunt in Return of the Jedi, because he could alwa ys hide the weapon in his blowhole and hold his breath until the critical moment arrived. Then we though that maybe he could wear a little bowler hat over it, unless he sneezed, which would be insanely revolting. And now I want to run a Star Wars campaign again.

The Orcs charged into melee, bashing Erich down to zero hitpoints, wrecking Seth's armor, and forcing Laura to expend all of her Magic Missiles; by the end of the fight, the party was in slightly better shape than the 1st Battlecruiser Squadron after Jutland, but that not a very good basis for comparison. (Jutland's on my mind right now because I just received and read a copy of The Life of John Rushworth, Lord Jellicoe, published in 1936. I'm a Jellicoe fan, myself, although I've done his memory a great disservice by naming my cat after him.)

When the smoke cleared, the PCs were too battered to do anything but retreat back to the surface, where the happily tested potions in the best Monty Haul/thirteen-year-old GM fashion, joyously reaping the EP awards and climbing a level. Except for Erich, anyway, who's still stuck at level 1. But he's working on it.

Overall, I was pleased with the game, especially because the players were willing to all give up a Saturday afternoon for it. In my experience, it can be easy enough to maintain a preset meeting time week after week, but inevitably, someone or another will drop out for a week or two at a time, and there'll be no gaming (witness the number of columns about not gaming that I've inflicted upon you, for example.) But to get a weekend day on short notice is a good thing, a Big Thing, because it means the PCs are interested enough in the game that they're willing to alter their schedules for it.

Or they're losers, like me, and have tons of free time because nobody likes them. But I'm sure it's the former, aren't you?

Aren't you?

Perhaps If Luke Were A Beluga Whale He Would Not Have Been A Little Bitch So Much:

Seth (on why Jar-Jar Binks is an outcast): He was a Gungan child molester. He used to lick the eggs.

Erich (discussing his webcomic and potential Muppet firearms): Ah yes, Muppets versus Predator.

Ed (singing the theme of Green Acres): You are my wife... Erich: Goodbye, Magic Knife!

Laura (sips a potion of Polymorph to Gnome): I become a Gnome? Ed: Well, you're...gnomier.

Erich (sips a Philter of Lust): I've...never...felt...this way. I hump his leg.

Laura: Say..."lugubrious". Seth (playing someone from parts foreign): Ru...rra...gra...No.

Hack For More

WEEK 11: 05/08/04

Hack For More

WEEK 11: 05/08/04

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Hack For More WEEK 11: 05/08/04 by Edward McEneely May 18,2004	Hack For More WEEK 11: 05/08/04 Well, we managed to game this week, despite a slight delay incurred when Seth had to get a little bit of dental surgery that left him all goofy on Thursday. Something to do with wisdom teeth, they tell me. I'll skip the obvious puns, thank you. We started off with me realizing that I'd lost Laura's character sheet. Now, there was a certain amount of finger-pointing and people wondering if this was really an accident, but I think in the end we were all better off, and Laura rolled up a cheery little magic user named Beth. ("Hi. My name is Beth. I'm an alcoholic and I like to cast Magic Missile.") We began the game five minutes before the end of the previous session; Erich even kindly told the same jokes for us as Seth helplessly watched the burning brand arch towards the inn before giving a hearty toot on his whistle seconds before Erich created water around the torch, extinguishing it. A brief chase ensued, which was ended when Seth trod upon a caltrop and called it a night. The players proceeded to heal, then ventured back to the dungeon, accompanied by their ever-growing menagerie of animals, now including a peacock named Yamara. (Yamara, of course being the old Dragonmirth comic that is easily better than any other comic about gaming [rather than gamers] ever; better even, I feel, than "Phil and Dixie", the only really good old Dragon comic to survive in any form these days. My favorite line: "I've been letting them worship [you] in my church, but you know, it's very bad form." I was lucky enough to score a copy of the old Steve Jackson Games anthology; I think there may have been another book, and if anyone knows about it, for God's sake, let me know too.) The party wandered about and found a rack of a dozen potions and a magical spatula of healing (which Laura thought was a weapon, and claimed for her own) before walking into a squad of Southern League Orcs (here Erich put the fight theme from Kill Bill volume I on, for our listening enjoyment), and a short discussion ensued about the nature of a combat round, which I gather represents a sort of intricate ballet of melee during which the actual hit is scored. Even if it's two guys fighting with clubs, this is the case, which lead us to imagine a delicate ballet involving peg arms. From here, we got off topic and onto a discussion of the whale-like aliens in the West End Star Wars game, the, uh, Herglics (had to go and dig out my copy of the Thrawn Trilogy sourcebook for that one), who look like angry Beluga whales and are compulsive gamblers. We theorized that a Jedi Herglic wouldn't need an R2 unit for the lightsaber chucking stunt in Return of the Jedi, because he could alwa ys hide the weapon in his blowhole and hold his breath until the critical moment arrived. Then we though that maybe he could wear a little bowler hat over it, unless he sneezed, which would be insanely revolting. And now I want to run a Star Wars campaign again. The Orcs charged into melee, bashing Erich down to zero hitpoints, wrecking Seth's armor, and forcing Laura to expend all of her Magic Missiles; by the end of the fight, the party was in slightly better shape than the 1st Battlecruiser Squadron after Jutland, but that not a very good basis for comparison. (Jutland's on my mind right now because I just received and read a copy of The Life of John Rushworth, Lord Jellicoe, published in 1936. I'm a Jellicoe fan, myself, although I've done his memory a great disservice by naming my cat after him.) When the smoke cleared, the PCs were too battered to do anything but retreat back to the surface, where the happily tested potions in the best Monty Haul/thirteen-year-old GM fashion, joyously reaping the EP awards and climbing a level. Except for Erich, anyway, who's still stuck at level 1. But he's working on it. Overall, I was pleased with the game, especially because the players were willing to all give up a Saturday afternoon for it. In my experience, it can be easy enough to maintain a preset meeting time week after week, but inevitably, someone or another will drop out for a week or two at a time, and there'll be no gaming (witness the number of columns about not gaming that I've inflicted upon you, for example.) But to get a weekend day on short notice is a good thing, a Big Thing, because it means the PCs are interested enough in the game that they're willing to alter their schedules for it. Or they're losers, like me, and have tons of free time because nobody likes them. But I'm sure it's the former, aren't you? Aren't you? Perhaps If Luke Were A Beluga Whale He Would Not Have Been A Little Bitch So Much: Seth (on why Jar-Jar Binks is an outcast): He was a Gungan child molester. He used to lick the eggs. Erich (discussing his webcomic and potential Muppet firearms): Ah yes, Muppets versus Predator. Ed (singing the theme of Green Acres): You are my wife... Erich: Goodbye, Magic Knife! Laura (sips a potion of Polymorph to Gnome): I become a Gnome? Ed: Well, you're...gnomier. Erich (sips a Philter of Lust): I've...never...felt...this way. I hump his leg. Laura: Say..."lugubrious". Seth (playing someone from parts foreign): Ru...rra...gra...No.