The Alt-Right DM

I mean, I knew I was good, but these new meds are expanding my mind and opening my soul to broad new vistas of talent that I didn’t know I had in me!  Last night I conked out early, and when I woke up this was draped over my face.  My hands are numb, so it took everything I had to scan this side of it or I’d show you the bitching art on the other side – it’s got proper pig-face orcs and everything.

I talked to the new game group on the phone today.  They are bringing over more players.  Instead of the three from last Friday,t he whole family is going to be there.  That’s probably good, because you probably need like eight to twelve characters to make your way through this modern day classic dungeon.  We’ll have none of this four character adventure party Girl D&D in my hovel, son!  It’s go big or go home.

Tomorrow’s game night with the family is going to be ham-hazing!  I hope the guys listening at home have as much fun listening as we will playing.

My just had the bestest idea for a module.

So like, imagine there’s this motel, right?  Real wrap around place, like a U-shaped motel like you see along the interstate.  The kind of place where I service old heiresses to raise money to fund my pain medications.  Except, instead of fat guys and old broads hooking up on the downlow, there’s like, monsters behind each door, yeah?

So the party goes up into the parking lot, but there’s not a parking lot because this is D&D, so there’s old broke down trees and buzzards and stuff but they have to pick a door.  And behind the doors on one side are kobolds and orcs, and on the other side are goblins and hobgoblins and maybe gnolls.

See, but here’s the genius part – the really tough monsters are at the back of the motel, and they run the joint.  We’re talking evil robed dudes keeping all these monsters from killing each other.  They kind of hide behind some tough bros like a minotaur and a gorgon and stuff, but they’ve got an army of undead and they are up to no good.  They keep the other monsters from killing each other.

Now, if you were Full Retard, you’d just let a group walk in and start killing stuff.  But you and me, Mister Computer, we ain’t but Half-Retards, so we’re going to let those guidos get smart and maybe talk a few monsters into helping them knock off the other monsters.  Maybe they could like, turn half the motel against the other half or something.  And while the characters are gone, the place is going to change.  Like if they wipe out one group, another group might just kinda move into the empty space and make it more complicateds, ya dig?  Or like, they could hire kobolds using gold stolen from the goblins.  Anything like that would be smarter than just running into a hole in the ground and slaughtering anything that moves.

That’s should make for some great audio for the Live PLay that the Agents want to record this Friday night!

Where’s my pencils?  I gotta right this down before the Zylkene powder wears off.

Hey look guys, D&D got a mention in the Cleveland news.  Our existence has been acknowledged by real whorenalists!  That means we’re legit now, right?  The world likes us.  It really really likes us!

So anyway, the local papers had a great story that I thought you’d enjoy.  It would seem a random passerby decided that one D&D adventuring party needed to a thief:

A psychic and owner of a Lakewood boutique told police that someone barged into her store with a gun Sunday afternoon and robbed the place amid a Dungeons & Dragons gathering that took place in the basement.

Shoulda seen that one coming, amirite and also amiterribleatjokes?  That feels like a twitter-style joke so obvious that everybody as his abusive stepmother falls over themselves to try and be the first to make it.

“So that, that was ridiculous,” [the morbidly obese and patchouli scented store owner*] said to the dispatcher. ” You know, I said, ‘I don’t have any money.’ He’s like, ‘Give me the money.’ I’m like, ‘Seriously?’ I thought he was joking. And then he pulls out this weapon and I’m like, ‘What?’”

Consider this your valuable reminder to practice safe gaming – next session make sure you bring a cleaned, loaded, and loosely holstered weapon of your choice.  Guns don’t kill people, people whose limited gaming time is interrupted by some dumb crackhead who thinks patchouli scented boomer hipsters have money kill people.

*Perhaps I’m taking excessive liberties with the use of those brackets to replace the word “she”, but come on!  Is there any chance my alteration in inaccurate?  You’ve been to the conventions.  You know, man.  YOU KNOW.

What we had last night was a whole series of failures to communicate.  But what can you expect from a bunch of garlic-gargling guineas?

They didn’t appreciate all the effort that went into my pan of frozen lasagna.  Frankly, I was kind of insulted that they were insulted by it.  I’m a modern culturally sensitive kind of guy who tries to meet minorities and greasy southern European types like them halfway whenever I can.  I respect and sympathize with everybody unfortunate enough not to come from decent and honest northern European stock, you know?

To make matters worse, it turns out the word “gaming” has a lot of different connotations.  It also turns out that the phrase “high interest loan with no collateral” has one connotation with which I was not familiar until my gaming group explained it to me real good last night.  It probably shouldn’t have taken until the third broken finger for me to appreciate their perspective, but when you game-tease a guy with the promise of some hot player on DM action and then yank it away at the last second, what do you expect?

My bookie was nice enough to swing by last night – he already knew the guys in my gaming group through some mutual acquaintances – and after some negotiations and a rather painful application of hammer to kneecap we all agreed that my debts could be resolved by transferring my March investments from my bookie to the guys in my gaming group.  All was well that almost ended well, except that – and I feel really bad about this – we never managed to sit down so they could plumb the depths of Bone Hill.

They were nice enough to drop me off at the ER, I’ll give them that.  Unfortunately, they were busy and couldn’t wait for me.  By the time I crawled up to the registration desk, waited for the long line of immigrants to get treatment for their stuffy noses, had my bones set, and limped home on a crutch made from a fallen tree branch, it was mid-morning and they had other business to attend to.

The really funny part is that I had a couple of much more respectable guys in dark suits waiting for me when I got home.  Turns out the old Alt-Right DM is gaining a reputation around these parts as a reliably entertaining DM.  These guys heard about my game night, and asked if they could record the next one.  They said they are so interested that they are putting their own campaigns on hold for it.

Brief aside, these guys don’t want to play at my table.  They just want to record.  I think it’s because they aren’t fantasy gamers.  I think they play Top Secret or something.  They started talking about how they write up stuff about Russia and computer server security and other political stuff and I got a little bored and drifted off.

Now, you know darn well that I’m not a big fan of live play D&D sessions.  You may remember these golden oldies expressing my disdain for what passes for D&D on the Youses and the Tubeses:

But here’s what I’m thinking, and this might be the pain meds talking, but this is my chance to get some Real D&D broadcast over a few strands of the social media web.  And if somebody else volunteers to do all the heavy technical lifting for me, so much the better!  They said they have a lot of people interested in hearing what goes down at one of my gaming nights, and that they could even help me resolve the misunderstanding that I had with the ex-wives about their boyfriends’ kids and that long trip we took.

So while the rains haven’t fallen on my gaming drought just yet, big things are in motion and next week should be a purple lemur dancing on my ceiling.  My nose melted, but the world feels like Coca-Cola in my hair.  That doorknob is huge, and I wonder what this button does when you pr

Tonight’s the night!  New group.  New campaign.  New everything.

I’m a little nervous, because these are the guys that loaned me bail money after the ex-wives got uppity over me bonding with their boyfriend’s kids out-of-state for a few months, and I don’t have the money to repay them just yet.  But they didn’t ask for collateral, so I’m pretty sure they’ll let me slide for a few weeks.  I’ve got a lot of money socked away in investments that should come due in March.  If my landlord can wait until the Final Four to get his money, so can my gaming group.

Tonight will be character generation, and a little light delving.  These guys said they are old gaming hands comfortable with old school rules, so I’m uncorking a 1981 vintage, some of Lakofka’s best, and letting it breathe while waiting for the gang to arrive:

These guys are too classy for the usual hot pockets and salty snacks fare.  They love garlic – you could tell even over the usual holding cell aromas – so I’m laying out a nice spread of frozen lasagna microwaved to perfection with a side of fresh toasted Wonder Bread smeared with butter and garlic salt.  They’re gonna love it!

This couldn’t have happened to a nicer company.  Cuck harder, Mearly Mearls, and maybe they’ll stop coming for your straight white head.

Spoilers: they won’t.

Full disclosure, I stole and modified that design from The Quartering’s Crypto Fashion page.  You can get a shirt with ironic seventies cowgirl and the classic phrase (sans ampersand) right about here.  Order one today and use the special code EREAGANWRIGHT and you’ll get a massive discount of zero percent because I ain’t doing this for the money.  I’m just doing it for the funny.

This is what I do for the money:

That and servicing wealthy widows at the discount motel out on Route 420, but you probably can’t help me with that income stream.

Full disclosure:  My game time over the past few months has been dramatically limited.  Business down to the local adult video arcade has been booming.  I’ve been volunteering my time running coffee and donuts to the hard working men and women but mostly men at the ICE office.  Two of my ex-wives had the po-po drop in for a little visit, and are now taking me back to court over a minor misunderstanding about an unplanned out of state trip with the kids that lasted a few months longer than anticipated.  And that required a few more hair dye jobs, school registrations, and fake Social Security cards than anticipated.  What can I say?  Things happened.  Mistakes were made.

But all that’s okay, because my Nethers are tingling,and there’s daylight on the gaming horizon.   Cyfaraun rises, and I’m banking my creativity and laying aside vast stores of Red Bull and Doritos for the glorious day when I can get my fingerprinting ink stained hands on a hard copy of Autarch’s Nethercity.

Man, June 2019 can’t come fast enough.

Kinda like the customers where I work.

Anyway, I should even be able to swing this campaign without hitting up neckbeard and olfactory factory that is the local game shop.  See, I met some guys during processing last night  that were interested in doing some gaming.  Big guys in nice suits – not the usual late-night holding cell riff-raff.  I warned them that I like to run things off the books at times, and they didn’t have a problem with that.  I even made sure they understood that I was talking high risk, high stakes gaming here.  They just laughed and asked if I could bump up the schedule and throw some dice with them this weekend.  They were so eager, they even loaned me the money to make bail.  It’s at a pretty high interest rate, but they didn’t even ask for any collateral!

These guys really want to game – it’s going to be a great weekend.