Dungeons and Dragons

I've been very lazy with my gaming group this past year, "winging" almost every game session with minimal notes, if any (not that I'm not an expert at winging it; they've enjoyed a fully emotionally and intellectually engaging campaign thus far). Now, though, that they enter penultimate act (most likely anyway) of this campaign, I find it's necessary that I not wing it. It's time for a great amount of structure, which is often both my least and most enjoyable aspects of campaign-making, adventure planning, world-building. Face it, when you've as much practice and success at winging it, it's sometimes more daunting to go back to not winging it (that ADJ's gaming group has a gigantic player-made bible to follow for their home campaign leaves me in awe. Of course, I also lack the long-term full-on commitment to fellowship and gameplay as a group that she has, which I'm sure must help. Too many of my group seem to "show up" to games only when the fancy meets them, or when there isn't a football game, or whatever. They're my friends, beloved all, but it can still be really fucking frustrating to craft a campaign that includes plans for all, only to have a key player decide they'd rather spend the second, third and fifth months lerning to knit. This is actually my primary reason for winging it as much as I do: not enough commitment.).

I find myself now, the group mostly consistent and committed, if ultimately small in numbers, sending them on the brink of a stage in the campaign I did plan as possible, but never really expected to find them moving to do: an act of planar exploration and attempted deicide that, regardless of the outcome, will vastly effect the tenor of my game for the remainder of the campaign, and for all of those that follow.

So I find myself today with a rare Saturday off, a wall of books surrounding me, and a need to plan. . .

Let the nerdcore rise up. . .