My brother and I’ve loosely been tied to a crew in the hopes to get some D&D going. We met up with the DM and his girlfriend, another would-be player. We learned the setting’s scope for the campaign and built our PCs together, learning quite a bit of how-to from the DM in the process. We left tipsy and happy, elated to finally have a crew, with the first adventure still TBD, once the DM has and recovers from surgery in January.
Okay, but that was three months ago, with no word from the DM. Any communication we’ve had I initiated. Not wanting to impose or get on his nerves while he recovers, they’ve been short and sent sparingly. And nothing since. I know it was a minor surgery and I don’t think he had any complications, but how am I to know to stay patient?
Well, I don’t know. And me being the naturally impatient person I am, I’m over waiting and I’m over the non-communication. Enter: my campaign, The Daleland Ashes.
I got to thinking the other day: I’ve got a great story – it’s unique and could honestly branch out in any direction. What the hell are we waiting for? So I proposed it to my brother: let’s just do it, let’s play D&D. So what if it’s just the three of us and none of us really know what we’re doing. At least we’d be playing and it’ll be fun to learn by doing. I could figure out how to play a PC and DM at the same time, why not. The other two could help keep me honest to the character and the DM style if need be.
He didn’t skip a beat. Took him 0.12867 seconds to respond, “Let’s go.”
I’m more than willing to host our games, but now I don’t have a dining room table. Not a hard fix, as I think a square card table and a few folding chairs could do the trick, but it’s a heartier investment than I thought it’d be (re: Furniture is Expensive and It’s the Worst Thing About Adulthood). I also doubt such flimsy furniture would promote more than two hours of play. That could be a blessing in disguise, though.
My immediate tasks are to badger my brother to contact Saraia (I’m not sure how to spell her name at the moment), nail down an “Episode 0” date, write up a hearty setting synopsis for the players to better inform their PC creation, and switch my brain over to OneNote like everyone else.
It feels good to have at least one thing in life moving forward.