Throwing Rocks in Texas (Part 3)

Saturday kicked down my door like a fighter with 18-double-aught STR and dragged me back into the sea of con attendees. After surviving another go-around with the hotel restaurant for breakfast (I chose to order food rather than sample from the worn-down looking buffet), it was back to the Longhorn Room for a session with a surprise twist: “Expect the Unexpected.”

I knew what the surprise was before going in, having had the beans spilled to me by Doug the night before after I mentioned that I was going to try to sneak into Frank Mentzer’s Boot Hill game. Boot Hill was one of those titles that I always wanted to try, but my FLGS never seemed to carry a copy of it back in the day. Having a chance to correct that gap in my gaming experience with Frank at the helm was a welcome one. But, alas, there was a catch.

“Expect the Unexpected” was a take on the premise from the TV show “Quantum Leap.” Each participant would play at one table for a pre-determined period, then “jump” to another table, picking up a PC left behind by the group that just departed. The referees were all industry folks and the games a peculiar, but entertaining lot. Jim Ward was running Metamorphosis Alpha, Frank had Boot Hill, Jeff Dee was running Cavemaster, and Steve Winter had brushed the dust off of Star Frontiers for the session. I started in Jeff Dee’s Cavemaster game along with seven other Neolithic wayfarers.

I mentioned Cavemaster earlier and how much I was impressed with it. It’s even better with a group. Jeff gave us the plot: a wandering band of cavemen and cavewomen traveling to meet up with our tribe at our traditional nomadic hunting grounds. We were out of food and hoon-gry, which is bad news if you’re a cavefolk. The party was comprised of “classes” one would expect in a Paleolithic setting (hunters, gathers, warriors, shaman, and me, the smart one), all of whom brought their own specialized talents to the game. The gatherers found enough food for us to survive one day, but it was evident we needed meat. Luckily for us, we soon found a quartet of peccaries drinking from the river and it was on!

Neat mechanics aside, I had a better time trying to hunt those four pigs than I’ve had looting a dragon’s lair. The players were all getting into the caveman shtick (speaking in broken English, giving ourselves names like “Healing Milk,” “Flame Hair,” “Deer Runner,” and “Fire Maker,” and grunting and hooting whenever appropriate) and knowing that if we failed to get enough meat to feed us all for a few days it would result in a long starvation or the invention of cannibalism. The stakes felt much higher and therefore the fun was increased. When we successfully brought down three of the four wild pigs, it was if we had accomplished something important and tangible, something very much unlike killing an orc and taking his copper pieces. We’d managed to dress the pigs and start weaving baskets to carry all that glorious meat when it was time to switch tables.

 We found ourselves aboard the Warden in Jim’s Metamorphosis Alpha game and he took no time in presenting us with plenty of opportunities to kill ourselves. This was the second time I’ve had a chance to play MA with Jim and I had a massive karmic debt to pay for last time. I was fully prepared to throw myself on the proverbial (or more likely in Jim’s game, not-so-proverbial) grenade to save the party. Unfortunately, due to the stipulations of “Expect the Unexpected,” Jim could only banish the clumsy, stupid, and unlucky to the cryo-tubes—a fate I somehow avoided once more without tossing my fellow PCs under the space bus. I maintained my 100% survival rate in Jim Ward’s games and now hang up my uniform and retire terrified, but undefeated. I’ll not miss the R radiation-emitting space slugs that were the doom of so many others.

Next up it was off to Boot Hill and we found ourselves in—as Frank stressed—the historical Old West. Most of us were unfamiliar with Boot Hill, so Frank had to eat up a lot of time giving us the gist of the mechanics, but we did manage to fight off some Indian raiders, equip some armored wagons, and buy some dynamite for the next party to jump to the table to have fun with. Frank later confided to me that the session we were playing was inspired by “Star Wars” and just had the obvious serial numbers filed off. In retrospect, it’s obvious, but also genius.

One last leap before our return to the world of Cavemaster landed us in the bowels of an alien city—Star Frontiers time! Fending off robots and Sathar, we worked our way through the crystalline underbelly of the metropolis in search of missing scouts and really managed to screw ourselves up when we drove into a claymore mine and blew up. But, as was quickly pointed out, that wasn’t going to be our problem anymore in about ten minutes. My apologies to the group that came back and found their PCs all banged up.

Star Frontiers was one of those games that I enjoyed in theory when I was younger. The “Knight Hawks” expansion was one of my favorites, but the alien races and default setting never did anything for me. Having experienced it again and become re-acquainted with its simple d% resolution system and skills, I’m tempted to hack it together with Traveller and a slew of other sci-fi influences and give my own spin to it. File that under the “someday campaign” list we referees keep.

At long last, we cavemen returned to our homeland to discover ourselves in the middle of a pitched battle with cannibal, armor-wearing Neanderthals (we missed the pterodactyl fight). Ultimately, we defeated that enemy and rescued our fellow tribes-people from becoming supper, and even managed to begin retro-engineering the concept of armor to make ourselves invincible in the Neolithic world.  “Expect the Unexpected” was a very, very fun stretch of hours and I hope the experiment is repeated at future cons.

Next Up: The Not-Be, the Toads, and Farewell

Throwing Rocks in Texas (Part 1)

It’s been more than two weeks since NTRPGCon and I’ve yet to chronicle my exploits in Bedford, TX. Partly to blame was the inevitable post-con crash that afflicts most of us who spend four days in the company of our far-flung comrades in dice bags only to return to the mundane daily grind, but I also came home to find my internet connection on the fritz for a week and that took the wind out of my sails. Enough time has passed to fill my proverbial canvas anew, but that also means the following may be corrupted by time and faulty memory. Take this all with a small pinch of salt.

Unlike my journey to Gary Con, the trip down to Texas was a breeze. Once again, I got to fly in a turbo prop from Long Island down to Philly before graduating to a real, honest-to-goodness jet plane. Some folks might see that as a quaint means of travel, but with my love of the past, there’s nothing like taking a ride through the skies and watching the props whirl just outside the window. Plus, the guy sitting next to me had the largest carry-on bag in history, so the flight attendant (although I think I can call her a “stewardess” if the plane has propellers) moved me up to the front row in return for promising I’d open the emergency hatch in case of a crash. That is assuming a prop didn’t break free on impact and turn me into Wash in the closing half-hour of Serenity.

From Philly it was a nice flight to Dallas-Fort Worth. The young guy beside me, hailing originally from a formerly French-controlled African nation and having the most unique accent I’ve ever heard, spent the flight watching either that movie starring Real Navy SEALS™ or the longest Armed Forces commercial in history (it’s the same thing, actually) with French sub-titles. We arrived in Texas without trouble, but I learned that the previous evening saw Biblical thunderstorms in D-FW and interrupted the travel of fellow NTRPGCon attendees.

A brief wait (less than 15 minutes) had me in the Holiday Inn shuttle and en route to the hotel. Another con attendee was in the van with me, but was suffering through his own version of my trip to Gary Con. He apologized for his surliness later and now I must apologize because I can’t remember who that was. Sorry, brother. Refresh my memory if you’re reading this.

At the hotel, I learned that since I was technically two hours early for check-in, my reserved room with the rest of the con folks wasn’t ready and would I mind another room on a different floor? Knowing my gaming kin, “Yes, please.” So instead of being ensconced on the fifth floor, I had a quiet little room on the second floor right by the stairs down to the lobby. Again, after my room in Lake Geneva (literarily the farthest room possible from the action of the convention), it was a godsend. And those stairs meant I could avoid the elevator and work off some of the big Texas meals I figured I’d be eating while in town (more on that later). Mike Badolato, one of the con’s organizers wandered by as I was checking in, so I got to put names to faces from minute one. He was just the first of many folks I’d get acquainted with over the next four days.

With my bags safely stowed in my room, I wandered down to the ballroom and grabbed my con badge. I ran into Allan Grohe manning the Black Blade booth, saw a few other familiar faces from Gary Con, and got settled. The area was quiet. Vendors had yet to arrive and most of the gaming tables were vacant. I began to wonder if this whole North Texas thing was all hype, but then learned that the Charity D&D game was underway down in the “Longhorn Room” (what else would you expect in Texas?) and that’s where the masses were gathered. Rather than join the crowd, I hung around the ballroom for awhile chatting with the stragglers and new arrivals. Out in the common area beside the lobby, Jeff Dee was setting up his display table and I introduced myself. We chatted about his Kickstarter projects and Goodman Games for a bit before Jeff kindly taught me how to play Cavemaster, his new Neolithic RPG. Folks, Cavemaster would be one of the bright lights of the con for me and I can’t recommend picking up a copy strongly enough. The whole premise (“it’s an archeological recreation of the first RPG played by our caveman ancestors”) and game mechanics (it uses rocks. Really, rocks.) are unmitigated genius if you enjoy turning an off-beat concept into high art and unique but simple rule resolution. I’d get a more in-depth crack at Cavemaster before the con was over, but Jeff taught me the rules in less than three minutes.

The Charity Game finished not long after and who should I run into by my Gary Con partner in crime and soon-to-be fellow panelist Tim Kask. Tim and I caught up, talked shop, walked the parapet, and then, (and there’s no way to write this that doesn’t sound sleazy) went back to his hotel room so he could show me his Snakeriders. Tim and Frank Mentzer, his fellow Eldritch Enterprises compadre and my own convention buddy, were roommates for the con and Frank rolled in shortly after. We chatted about upcoming EE projects (I’m eagerly awaiting “Spider Bitch on the Rag,” although I’ve been told it will have another, more commercial title when it hits the market) before they invited me to dinner at the hotel restaurant. The three of us headed out to eat and encountered the plague of NTRPGCon: the wait-staff (emphasis on “the wait”). The slow service would become the running joke of the convention. It was obvious that the Holiday Inn was not prepared for gamer appetites—or merely human ones—and I suspect that this is the primary reason NTRPGCon V will be held at a new location.

Dinner was mind-blowing, the highlight of the con for little old me. Halfway through my burger, I realized that my table companions were Jennell Jaquays, Frank Mentzer, Tim Kask, Jim Ward, and (briefly) Erol Otus. That song from Sesame Street—“Some of these things belong together…”—started running through my head, but everyone was very welcoming and encouraging and we had a blast mocking Alien vs. Predator on the restaurant TV. Nevertheless, it was a reminder that somewhere down the line I had crossed a threshold and was now officially a game designer of very small renown. Thank you all so very much for warm welcome.

When dinner wrapped up, Tim, Frank, and I hung out on the patio and they told me secrets Man Should Not Know about the old days with Gary and TSR. I don’t actively ask about the Old Days when I’m with those guys, wanting to avoid being a rabid fanboy, but I’ve learned that just by hanging around with them and letting them talk, I pick up a few interesting anecdotes along the way. I’m like the Margaret Mead of the gaming industry. Luckily for the guilty, I don’t always recall all the tales the next day, but the ones I do remember are doosies. At last, the late hour and the flight caught up with me and I managed to get to bed at a respectable hour—but not before dropping $40 on some old Judges Guild stuff from the con store. It would be the first of several purchases I’d make before heading back to NY.

Next up: Emirikol is killed and the Tim & Mike Show makes its debut.