Years ago...

“Your group proceeds down the darkened hallway when you hear a rumbling. The stone beneath your feet shakes. Dirt and dust falls from cracks that begin to appear. Before you can react, the ceiling collapses – the trap has sprung! Everyone roll a saving throw to see if they are caught in it.”

The rattle and clatter of dice.

Silence.

Calculations are being made.

“Looks like everyone made it except for the guy in the back. That’s you.”

The gathered group looks at me. I stare back, wondering what to say. I am all of 11 years old.

“You are dead. Crushed flat by a huge stone that now blocks the passage behind the survivors.”

I am all of 11 years old and now I am dead.

“You can roll up a new character – if you want.”

“Fuck yeah!” I tell them as I ask them again what dice to roll.

(Well, okay, I may not have said “fuck” – but it was years ago and my memory is hazy beyond that I did roll up a new character. Also, “fuck yeah” is a much more expressive affirmative answer than what I probably said.)

Ever since that introduction to TSR’s Dungeons & Dragons, I found myself hooked. I had already read Lord of the Rings, twice (The Hobbit I had devoured at least a half dozen times by age 11). I had been playing strategic games – chess, Avalon Hill’s Panzer Blitz & Panzer Leader, and a myriad of other tactical war games – with one of my brothers for a few years when he would come home on leave (he was an officer in the Marine Corps and typically only came home once or twice a year). But, it wasn’t until I began playing Dungeons & Dragons that I could really stretch my mind.

D&D was a game that allowed the original Ray Harryhausen’s Jason & The Argonauts to come to life – on the fucking kitchen table!

Years later...

TSR and Avalon Hill don’t exist anymore. The Lord of the Rings can be viewed in a trilogy of 3 sweeping DVDs, and Dungeons & Dragons is now in its 6th incarnation (officially known as D&D v3.5) with a new company known as Wizards of the Coast at the helm.

Things change.

“Six hundred and sixty-six chains latch into your body with serrated hooks. As they pull taught, you have a moment to reflect on your situation. You’re in the bowels of some layer in Hell. You have been wandering around inside of a maze that seems to be shaped like a giant pentagram. The only way out seems to be for one of you to make the ultimate sacrifice. You have volunteered for this.”

“The chains rip your flesh, body and soul. Your uncontrollable agonized scream is cut short as the gore that once was your body splashes to the ground in sick, slopping chunks.”

I look across the table and smile as I ask the player, “do you want to roll up a new character?”

“Fuck yeah!” He tells me as he grabs his dice.

Some things stay the same.

Stay tuned for further installments.