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| ("How it started" by Mike Morrison) |
As my gaming group hit the 1990's and individual players our late 20's into our thirtysomethings, we left a trail of alcohol bottles, cigarette butts, vomit, hanger
heads, stacked and painted people, and fucking hellacious games.
Our
DunDraCon game sessions were so renowned we designated them with
proper nouns: The undercover Flower People ('92), Pee-Wee Herman's genie-inspired
Jambicon ('93), methamphetamine-fueled Jitterycon
('94), insanely drunk dungeon mastering Revenge of the Son of Greg
('95), and the Wild Turkey 101 extravaganza Executive Decision
('96).
Now I wouldn't recommend drinking, drugs, insanity to anyone.
And eventually they exact their pounds of flesh. As these epic games progressed through the decade I entered
the Dark Times from 1997 through 2004, coming out of that for our group to begin running some things where sessions
were more, say, congruent?
However, while reviewing another one of our old videos, this one from 1996, I remembered we did have a rhythm to our games that sat on top of whomever was running the game and whatever the details were of the adventure. I always said our sessions were like poker games where you didn't lose any money. All night affairs to avoid imperial entanglements. In general if you were there for the game you were there for the night.
We generally ran about 6-8 games each year rotated to different locations, including annual games at DunDraCon and a variety of camping locations for our annual camping trip.
Each game had distinct parts that recurred each session...
The Drive: Since by this decade of the 90s most of us had jobs and were raising families there was some dispersment around the San Francisco Bay Area and Northern California. Unless you were hosting there was often a 1-3 hour beer-fueled freeway trip to get to the game location.
The Jam: Many of the folks in my gaming group were either presently or formerly in bands together so there were electric and acoustic music jams to kick off the event (much to the chagrin of our non-music playing friends).
The Feeding Frenzy: Most often BBQ, but for sure some kind feast either hosted or pot luck before the game. So everyone started the night with a good meal in their belly - sometimes with disastrous results. (pickles)
Pre-Game Business: Who was here last time? How many experience points were awarded? Was there time to train and level up? What the hell is even going on right now??? We rotated DMs after 3 sessions for two co-DMs and after a single game for solo DMs.
The Game: This is it, the game session where all the action happens either connected or not with the prior session or any sort of campaign arc. (Our characters became unstuck in the Multiverse and could end up virtually any place or time.)
The Interlude Journey: This most often occurred around 1-2am involving Sumerled and whomever he could drag along for the alcohol/cigarettes/snacks/candles/etc.-run. That magical time during the Witching Hour when a previously bare fridge would become amazingly restocked to the brim with Budweiser.
Stacking: Did not want to be the first to pass out at our games. We practiced a parlor game we called "stacking" which was basically to see how many pizza cartons, paper plates, dog masks, candles, etc. we could build on top a dozing player without causing them to move and have the entire structure come tumbling down. Extra points for the number of empty beer can layers, the record was at least 4 and maybe 5 cans high. This might involve face painting.
Wind-down: As the sky turns from black to purple and then the Sun begins to peek our game is wrapping up, early sleepers are waking up and the hardcore beer-drinkers are still drinking beer. Might involve a little quiet acoustic guitar, baseball catch, or hurling in the corner of someone's yard.
Breakfast/The Ride Home: Some games, like DunDraCon and the camping trip, J.A.S. would break out his gas grill for pancakes. Otherwise it was some kind of fast food breakfast sandwich on the drive home, which often also involved more beer albeit not consumed quit so vigorously as the previous night's trip.
If we had an agenda for each games session this would be it. The lack of sleep and overabundance of alcohol was not sustainable, recovery time from each game increased as the years went by. Most of us are on the proverbial wagon now, and even those that still imbibe generally are not pulling all-nighters.
Amazingly, with most of the original group in their sixties now, we only lost one of our friends -
Postman Bob, RIP, who passed back in 2011.
What did we earn from all of these games? Ha, one thing is we kind of do whatever the fuck we want within the context of our careers. (OK Boomer.) Another is that when emergencies occur and late or all night hours are required we laugh when other more normal folks are whimpering.
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| ("By Crom" by Shel Kahn) |
