Friday, March 28, 2014

Dungeon Crawling is Fight Club

Some players want to know how their character's story ends before they sit down to begin telling it. Some people plan out builds months or years in advance of needing to make those decisions. Some people want their characters to become the richest or most powerful or most respected in all the lands. Some characters, it's true, have these ambitions.

Some characters look at their life and, when Saturday rolls around, choose to live. Get a torch. Roll initiative.


On a long enough timeline the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
We don't want to die without a few scars.
Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing.
We've all been raised to believe that one day we'd all be kings and warriors and wizards, but we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
We're  not how much money we've got in our purse.  We're not our job.  We're not our family, and we're not who we tell ourselves. We're not our name. We're not our stats. We're not our edition. We are not our rolls. We are not our fucking +1 Plate Mail of Valor. 
We have to consider the possibility that Crom does not like us, never wanted us, in all probability hates us.
If we are Crom's unwanted children so be it!
We shoe your horses, we till your soil, we carry your messages, we tend your wounded, we guard you while you sleep. Do not fuck with us.
We feel like destroying something beautiful.