I don’t think I am the best DM. Don’t get me wrong I think I run an enjoyable game that people seem to like but there are some limitations or gaps in my toolkit if you will. I have never been that guy that can create an immersive homebrew setting filled with a rich tapestry of culture, people, and Machiavellian plots. Given my extensive nerd studies, consisting of pouring over tomes and tomes of fantasy literature, I am really better at world pilfering than world building. My games are also not super serious, although I try and get a mix of the serious and humor. I think this is, in part, a reflection of how I shuffle through this world with a sardonic glint in my eye and a fondness for dick and fart jokes.
What I have done since I got back into RPG’s and running games has been to exercise some of these weaker DM muscles, sort of like nerd pumping iron. In my 4th edition games I am trying to be more flexible and encouraging of the players to narrate actions and do interesting things irregardless of the rule system. Often I don’t’ even ask for a skill check or roll and just try and get them to describe what happens. This also expands into story aspects as well, with more sand boxy elements and brief forays into collaborative story telling. With the latter it’s kind of funny how jarring it can be to the players if they are not used to it and can make for some unpredictable and hilarious moments like what led to the title of this post.
It’s the second session of the Dark Sun game and I needed to introduce a character that was absent from the first session. He is playing a Tarek (aka a Half-Orc) hiring himself out for jobs that target the Sorcerer Kings infrastructure. We decided to have him apprehended and sold into slavery after torturing and gutting a Templar for secret information desired by his veiled alliance employers. So the party was able to spring Targ-Ugu and squire him back to Iman Fasile (ex-gladiator, tapas joint operator, and veiled alliance contact) with only minor bumps and bruises 🙂 then the moment of truth came, Iman, in his gravelly voice asks “so what was the message?”. At which point there was dead silence, followed by some humming and hawing, and then a voice chirped up over skype “Pork Swords”. I was like Pork Swords, really like WTF, but good old Iman didn’t miss a beat, he was all “holy shit that sounds terrible…this is bad news bears….this sounds petty bad, what do you think it means?…It sounds terrible, that’s gotta be some kind of code right?
Did I mention my fondness for dick and fart jokes? Well I guess you do reap what you sow sometimes. So now I gotta figure out how to work “Pork Swords” into some kind of grand Templar scheme…any ideas?

