Na-Ain't-Gonna-Happen-Mo

So NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo were complete, flaming wreckages for me. Writing for television news and helping manage our station's Facebook and Twitter stuff has made me a bit exhausted with both social media and creativity in general.  I just have no impetus to do anything when I get home, other than stumble through the motions of checking my WoW auctions, reading a couple of webcomics, and going to sleep.

And something in my head is telling me I could be a freaking news director one day?  What the hell is wrong with me?

So this is me, trying to flog my aching creative muscles into squeezing out a few more dribbles before I fall unconscious.  If I can do this more than one night in a row, I'll consider it a rousing success.

Where to start?  Where else:  the near-death of my D&D party this weekend.

Playbill


First, the introductions:  the players are 5 guys thrown together by randomness (and my ad at the gaming shop).  They've all had varying levels of experience with D&D, starting with the Coworker who has never touched a d20 before in his life and ending with the Commuter, who drives about an hour each weekend so he can actually play instead of DMing for his friends.

There's also the Student, who has a rather specialized character (halfling shaman made from Primal Power), and the Father and Son.  The Father wants to teach Son the game but can't get Son's friends interested, so now they're both playing with the grownups and college students.

The classes break down as follows:

Fruven - Eladrin Wizard - the Commuter
Dayereth - Eladrin Warlock - the Father
Rhogar - Dragonborn Paladin - the Son
Zahm - Halfling Shaman - the Student
Bob - Tiefling Rogue - the Coworker

(That's what happens when you let your party members name your character.)

Pushed to the Limit

Over two weekends the players have fought through 2/3 of the dungeon included in the new Red Box, and have had some memorable moments.  This latest session ended with one such encounter:  they found a storeroom with a few goblin cutthroats that were soon joined by a large bugbear wielding a magic axe.  The rogue was absent to the party was a man down, and they felt it soon enough.

The bugbear proceeded to whup up on the paladin and the shaman's tree spirit, and soon both of them were unconscious and the two eladrin were considering beating a hasty retreat, dragging their bodies with them.  Before they could stabilize the Son's paladin though, he failed a third death saving throw.

That put me in a bit of a tough spot.  I mean, here was a 15-year-old kid fresh to D&D, and his first character with the big boys was about to bleed out on the floor.

I think I'll save what happened to him for tomorrow night.  Right now I need to finish my scotch and hit the sack.