"Oh by the way Daddy," said my twelve-year-old son from the back seat of the car, "I mentioned the DnD game you're going to run for us to one of my friends, and she really wants to play."
I boggled at that for the space of a heartbeat, but it didn't have to be a family-only game and honestly we could use a couple more players anyway. Plus, I was pretty sure I knew which friend this was already. So, "Sure," I said. "Did you happen to get contact information?"
Firstborn nodded. "It turns out," he told me, "that I got a girl's phone number without even asking."
I nodded back. "DnD is good for that."
Friday, March 29, 2019
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Vendril Hits His Stride
Our D'n'D group finally retrieved our sorceress tonight. She got kidnapped back in January (though it's obviously been a lot less time in-game), and tonight we finally caught up to her and rescued her from the Solari who was guarding her. ("Solari" in this world are basically just high-level characters of any class; they're strategically important because -- given the way D'n'D scales -- they can tip a battle all by themselves. This one was a warrior of some sort.)
We're at about eighth level now, with my elvish Rogue/Ranger running a 3/5 split, and while he seemed a little weak early on (some of that was just bad rolls -- low level characters are way more dependent on the results of the dice than mid-to-high level characters are) I think he's finally caught up. I say this because in our last two games, he's managed to sneak up and perforate some bad guys, and he's finally managed to A) hit and B) deliver some real damage using two-weapon fighting. He's never going to be Drizzt and he's a bit more vulnerable than a front-line fighter should be, but he used a potion of invisibility tonight and put the first damage on the Solari with shortsword, dagger, favored enemy bonus, and sneak attack - plus the inspiration bonus from the bard. He's not using the best weapons in the game, but he's stacking all the bonuses he can find on them.
The fighter puts out more damage, of course. That's what fighters do, and this one is equipped with a guisarme and opens every fight with a trip attack. Tonight's battle... well...
Okay, so, we got to the door where the Solari was waiting. The sorceress, his prisoner, used her magic to make it look like the door had opened, so he started monologuing. This, while we were outside the door, listening to his muffled voice, and letting the bard cast buffs to strengthen us. It would have been a tough battle if we'd just charged in. Instead, well...
My character drank an Invisibility potion and used his first round to get into position. The possessed paladin charged straight in and put himself in threat range. The fighter came in and positioned himself as well.
The bad guy rolled out of the way of everyone he could see, but that put him in a position where my character could step in and make a full attack... with the sneak attack bonus for being a rogue, and the favored enemy bonus because the Solari was human, and an extra attack because the Bard had cast Haste. It didn't put him down, but it was a good opening. Then the paladin attacked, and then the fighter stepped in and attacked with a ridiculous amount of reach because he was both Enlarged and Enraged. The bad guy fell down, and while that wasn't technically the end of the battle it effectively settled the issue.
Anyway, all of that is to say that I'm actually really pleased with the way Vendril has done in play, and I'm liking the dex-based Rogue/Ranger crossover better than I probably would have liked either class alone.
We're at about eighth level now, with my elvish Rogue/Ranger running a 3/5 split, and while he seemed a little weak early on (some of that was just bad rolls -- low level characters are way more dependent on the results of the dice than mid-to-high level characters are) I think he's finally caught up. I say this because in our last two games, he's managed to sneak up and perforate some bad guys, and he's finally managed to A) hit and B) deliver some real damage using two-weapon fighting. He's never going to be Drizzt and he's a bit more vulnerable than a front-line fighter should be, but he used a potion of invisibility tonight and put the first damage on the Solari with shortsword, dagger, favored enemy bonus, and sneak attack - plus the inspiration bonus from the bard. He's not using the best weapons in the game, but he's stacking all the bonuses he can find on them.
The fighter puts out more damage, of course. That's what fighters do, and this one is equipped with a guisarme and opens every fight with a trip attack. Tonight's battle... well...
Okay, so, we got to the door where the Solari was waiting. The sorceress, his prisoner, used her magic to make it look like the door had opened, so he started monologuing. This, while we were outside the door, listening to his muffled voice, and letting the bard cast buffs to strengthen us. It would have been a tough battle if we'd just charged in. Instead, well...
My character drank an Invisibility potion and used his first round to get into position. The possessed paladin charged straight in and put himself in threat range. The fighter came in and positioned himself as well.
The bad guy rolled out of the way of everyone he could see, but that put him in a position where my character could step in and make a full attack... with the sneak attack bonus for being a rogue, and the favored enemy bonus because the Solari was human, and an extra attack because the Bard had cast Haste. It didn't put him down, but it was a good opening. Then the paladin attacked, and then the fighter stepped in and attacked with a ridiculous amount of reach because he was both Enlarged and Enraged. The bad guy fell down, and while that wasn't technically the end of the battle it effectively settled the issue.
Anyway, all of that is to say that I'm actually really pleased with the way Vendril has done in play, and I'm liking the dex-based Rogue/Ranger crossover better than I probably would have liked either class alone.
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Secondborn's Marvelous Weekend, Part Three
Sunday was quieter, at least relatively. I still didn't manage to sleep in, not the way I wanted (and probably needed) to do, but we had a good morning of television and video games and general relaxation (except for, well, the laundry). Somewhere in there I started writing up these entries.
Then, as we usually do on Sundays, we went down to see my father - the boys' grandfather.
His new wife had a client coming in, so she was pretty well stuck in the house for the afternoon and it was better if the rest of us were elsewhere. (HIPAA is a harsh mistress, as Heinlein might have pointed out.) So, we grabbed Granddaddy and headed out in search of a restaurant, and landed at Freebird's. This went amazingly well, all things considered: the servers talked Granddaddy through the available options as he went down the line (which he needed, because he basically can't see any kind of details), the boys enjoyed their quesadillas and would gladly eat there again, Beautiful Wife got to eat something she knew she liked, and I got queso. (Well, and a burrito, but after that much queso I only ate a little burrito and packaged up the rest for later. No shortage of tinfoil here...)
After that, we went in search of a park.
The first one, which I found by way of Google, was mainly ball fields with only a little bit of play equipment. We didn't even stop. Instead, we went down to one I remembered from my youth, which wasn't big but sat right on the bank of a creek and had a couple of bridges connecting to a central island and a dam you could walk across.
The boys loved it, and honestly it's nicer than I remembered. The parks department had done a great job of preserving some of the original features while adding in more modern play equipment as well. Secondborn immediately found some kids to play with, and a dog whose owner was willing to let Secondborn help him play Fetch. So that kept us busy for about an hour.
Then we returned to Granddaddy's house and parked ourselves on the porch, where we tried out a tent he had that he thought would fit me better (it did) and an air mattress I had that we thought would work better for something he has coming up. (It would.) The boys, meanwhile, changed into bathing suits and went outside to "swim" - which actually meant "start inflating water balloons for a water balloon conflict", with a bit of "try to clean the oak leaves out of the pool" thrown in for good major. (They actually came up with that second part on their own, and yes I'm terribly proud of that.)
Grandaddy doesn't have as much energy as he used to, so I generally keep our visits relatively short, but this one was an exception; it was nearly 5:30 by the time we coaxed the boys back into their clothes and back into the van, and creeping towards 6:00 buy the time we got home. And, of course, even after we'd brought everything in, Seconborn wanted to go on a walk. He had an egg in Pokemon Go, and walking would be needed in order to hatch it. So we took my woefully undercharged phone, and went on a walk.
Ladies, Gentlemen, and sundry other Notables: that was the part that broke me. I thought I'd just take the boy on a walk, take one for the team, and let Beautiful Wife cook dinner... and I suppose I did. But I came back from that walk with nothing left. My feet hurt. My calves ached. I was perfectly ready to collapse.
I couldn't, of course, because... well... parent. That was when the tornado sirens went off, and we put everybody -- including the cat -- into the bathroom. They stopped a few minutes later, and we served dinner.
So after all that we ate dinner, and eventually got the boys down even though it cost us extravagant promises that I fear we may not be able to keep. (What does Secondborn need to do with a water balloon for his YouTube video, anyway?) But finally, at last, all was quiet, and all we would have to worry about was getting the boys up and ready for school. Oh, yeah, and there was a magnificent thunderstorm, but I generally count those as good omens.
Tomorrow is another day, am I right?
Because people keep saying that to me like they think it's a promise, but it always, always sounds like a threat.
Then, as we usually do on Sundays, we went down to see my father - the boys' grandfather.
His new wife had a client coming in, so she was pretty well stuck in the house for the afternoon and it was better if the rest of us were elsewhere. (HIPAA is a harsh mistress, as Heinlein might have pointed out.) So, we grabbed Granddaddy and headed out in search of a restaurant, and landed at Freebird's. This went amazingly well, all things considered: the servers talked Granddaddy through the available options as he went down the line (which he needed, because he basically can't see any kind of details), the boys enjoyed their quesadillas and would gladly eat there again, Beautiful Wife got to eat something she knew she liked, and I got queso. (Well, and a burrito, but after that much queso I only ate a little burrito and packaged up the rest for later. No shortage of tinfoil here...)
After that, we went in search of a park.
The first one, which I found by way of Google, was mainly ball fields with only a little bit of play equipment. We didn't even stop. Instead, we went down to one I remembered from my youth, which wasn't big but sat right on the bank of a creek and had a couple of bridges connecting to a central island and a dam you could walk across.
The boys loved it, and honestly it's nicer than I remembered. The parks department had done a great job of preserving some of the original features while adding in more modern play equipment as well. Secondborn immediately found some kids to play with, and a dog whose owner was willing to let Secondborn help him play Fetch. So that kept us busy for about an hour.
Then we returned to Granddaddy's house and parked ourselves on the porch, where we tried out a tent he had that he thought would fit me better (it did) and an air mattress I had that we thought would work better for something he has coming up. (It would.) The boys, meanwhile, changed into bathing suits and went outside to "swim" - which actually meant "start inflating water balloons for a water balloon conflict", with a bit of "try to clean the oak leaves out of the pool" thrown in for good major. (They actually came up with that second part on their own, and yes I'm terribly proud of that.)
Grandaddy doesn't have as much energy as he used to, so I generally keep our visits relatively short, but this one was an exception; it was nearly 5:30 by the time we coaxed the boys back into their clothes and back into the van, and creeping towards 6:00 buy the time we got home. And, of course, even after we'd brought everything in, Seconborn wanted to go on a walk. He had an egg in Pokemon Go, and walking would be needed in order to hatch it. So we took my woefully undercharged phone, and went on a walk.
Ladies, Gentlemen, and sundry other Notables: that was the part that broke me. I thought I'd just take the boy on a walk, take one for the team, and let Beautiful Wife cook dinner... and I suppose I did. But I came back from that walk with nothing left. My feet hurt. My calves ached. I was perfectly ready to collapse.
I couldn't, of course, because... well... parent. That was when the tornado sirens went off, and we put everybody -- including the cat -- into the bathroom. They stopped a few minutes later, and we served dinner.
So after all that we ate dinner, and eventually got the boys down even though it cost us extravagant promises that I fear we may not be able to keep. (What does Secondborn need to do with a water balloon for his YouTube video, anyway?) But finally, at last, all was quiet, and all we would have to worry about was getting the boys up and ready for school. Oh, yeah, and there was a magnificent thunderstorm, but I generally count those as good omens.
Tomorrow is another day, am I right?
Because people keep saying that to me like they think it's a promise, but it always, always sounds like a threat.
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
Secondborn's Marvelous Weekend, Part Two
So, following our night of Back Yard Camping, Secondborn reminded Beautiful Wife that she had promised to let him call one of his friends from school. We did this, and naturally the two aspiring YouTube Video Creators wanted to have a play date. So we made arrangements, and after a while the friend's mom dropped Secondborn's friend at our house.
We were, more or less, ready.
I took all three boys (Firstborn, Secondborn, and Friend) down to the school playground at the end of the street and turned them loose with Nerf guns for The Great Nerf-Gun Battle Of 2019 (may its horrors and its glories never be forgotten). That lasted about half an hour, plus twenty minutes of walking each way. After that, the younger boys settled in to make videos while Firstborn had his bass lesson.
Secondborn and his friend really wanted to turn the whole thing into a sleepover, but we managed to head that off.
Despite that bit of disappointment, though, they had a great time and Friend's Mom asked about maybe arranging a trade-off over the summer, where we'd take turns dropping one boy off at the other's house. (If you aren't a parent, you might conceivably not realize that opportunities like that are pure gold and should cultivated immediately, especially if the friend and his family seem like nice, sane, balanced people.) (They do.) So that one was really a win all the way around, and Secondborn had the Best Saturday Ever.
I might have been just a wee bit tired by the end of the day, but that's the price we pay for a child who was A. completely thrilled with his life, and B. actually ready to go to sleep when bedtime came around. And honestly, I feel like we really don't provide enough of these opportunities for him; Secondborn is an extrovert in a family of introverts, and the amount of emotional stimulation he needs wears the rest of us out. That doesn't change the fact that he needs it, though. And he's getting old enough to seek it out himself: he's the one who got us his friend's phone number, for example.
So how did Sunday go? Well...
Oh, no, wait. You can't read that part 'til tomorrow.
We were, more or less, ready.
I took all three boys (Firstborn, Secondborn, and Friend) down to the school playground at the end of the street and turned them loose with Nerf guns for The Great Nerf-Gun Battle Of 2019 (may its horrors and its glories never be forgotten). That lasted about half an hour, plus twenty minutes of walking each way. After that, the younger boys settled in to make videos while Firstborn had his bass lesson.
Secondborn and his friend really wanted to turn the whole thing into a sleepover, but we managed to head that off.
Despite that bit of disappointment, though, they had a great time and Friend's Mom asked about maybe arranging a trade-off over the summer, where we'd take turns dropping one boy off at the other's house. (If you aren't a parent, you might conceivably not realize that opportunities like that are pure gold and should cultivated immediately, especially if the friend and his family seem like nice, sane, balanced people.) (They do.) So that one was really a win all the way around, and Secondborn had the Best Saturday Ever.
I might have been just a wee bit tired by the end of the day, but that's the price we pay for a child who was A. completely thrilled with his life, and B. actually ready to go to sleep when bedtime came around. And honestly, I feel like we really don't provide enough of these opportunities for him; Secondborn is an extrovert in a family of introverts, and the amount of emotional stimulation he needs wears the rest of us out. That doesn't change the fact that he needs it, though. And he's getting old enough to seek it out himself: he's the one who got us his friend's phone number, for example.
So how did Sunday go? Well...
Oh, no, wait. You can't read that part 'til tomorrow.
Monday, March 25, 2019
Secondborn's Marvelous Weekend, Part One
Secondborn has been asking about sleeping outdoors in a tent in the backyard. So (entirely against my better judgement) I told him that he and I could camp in the back yard on Friday. I had hoped to spare Beautiful Wife and Firstborn, but... no, they got roped in too. Fortunately, we have two two-person tents. (I think they're technically three-person tents, but the official tent rating appear to be based on the presumption that you can merge your flesh with that of your tent-mates, and also that you can all lie there like mummies, with no need to stretch out or roll over.) So I came home from work to find that both tents had been set up in the back yard, and when bedtime rolled around we all went outside to "sleep".
I was fully prepared to sleep. I was absolutely exhausted, coming off a very long and stressful week, and completely ready to crash and burn. I warned Secondborn that when we got into the tent, he'd need to be still and quiet because I was going to read two pages of my book and start snoring.
It... didn't quite play out like that.
Tents are just cloth. They are the exact opposite of soundproof. So we listened to Beautiful Wife and Firstborn chatting quietly, until they got quiet. Secondborn settled down next to me... and then started trying to set up a nightlight. I told him not to bother, and he settled in. Then, just as I was falling asleep, he sat back up and started trying to play something on his tablet. I told him to put it down and go to sleep, and he settled again. I settled too, and was just starting to drift to sleep when he sat back up again. This time he was worried because we couldn't hear Firstborn and Beautiful Wife. "That," I told him with some asperity, "is because they're asleep."
Secondborn settled in again, and this time was quiet and still for a good half an hour. I'd missed my window for falling asleep by this point, so I was reading. (Space Unicorn Blues as it happens, and I highly recommend it.) Then the wind picked up a little, and started rustling the rain fly (which at first made me think we were maybe getting drizzled on, but no: no precipitation, just a bit of wind). That woke Secondborn up again, so I asked if he wanted a little bit of Melatonin. He agreed, and we went inside and did that, and then came back out and settled in the tent again.
It was now 11:15, and the child was A. still awake, and B. chatty.
But, I got him settled again, and the Melatonin did its work, and he finally really slept.
It still wasn't quiet outside; we're talking about the Metroplex on a Friday night, and it has a deep, steady roar composed of hundreds of engines carrying people around the city. But it was quiet enough. And while we hadn't put down mattresses, I had thrown a sleeping bag under us and the tent was set up on a nice stretch of smooth grass. I'd been worried that I might not be able to sleep on a (relatively) hard surface like that, but while I'm definitely older than I used to be I'm not old enough for that to be a problem. No, the real issue with getting comfortable is that I'm almost exactly as tall as the tent is long, which makes it impossible to sleep with my head on one arm and my legs fully extended. (Secondborn, of course, does not share this problem.) So there was a lot of shifting around and rolling over, and having my limbs in strange but not really uncomfortable positions. All in all, though, it wasn't bad; I was aware of those things, but I still managed to be asleep.
Sometime the next morning when it was starting to get light, I heard the door to the kitchen open and close. Beautiful Wife and Firstborn had retreated into the house. It had turned chilly in the early morning, and Secondborn was cuddled against my back and rapidly taking over my pillow. (I really should have seen that coming and had an extra blanket ready, but oh well.) We slept a little longer, and when it was bright enough that I couldn't sleep anymore I nudged Secondborn awake and we went inside to join them.
I went to the back room and slept a little bit longer on the bed. (Not all that much longer, really; I'd actually slept pretty well in the tent.) Secondborn, meanwhile, immediately dropped into his mother leftover (and still very hot) bath water to warm up.
Secondborn was thrilled, y'all. Not only had we Had An Adventure, but it was an adventure that he'd come up with and largely directed. Bonus points for the fact that it didn't start to rain until mid-morning, after we'd had a chance to haul in everything that had been in the tents. Double bonus points for the Beautiful Wife making scrambled eggs for the boys and bacon-sirloin and cheddar omelettes for us.
But the weekend wasn't over yet...
I was fully prepared to sleep. I was absolutely exhausted, coming off a very long and stressful week, and completely ready to crash and burn. I warned Secondborn that when we got into the tent, he'd need to be still and quiet because I was going to read two pages of my book and start snoring.
It... didn't quite play out like that.
Tents are just cloth. They are the exact opposite of soundproof. So we listened to Beautiful Wife and Firstborn chatting quietly, until they got quiet. Secondborn settled down next to me... and then started trying to set up a nightlight. I told him not to bother, and he settled in. Then, just as I was falling asleep, he sat back up and started trying to play something on his tablet. I told him to put it down and go to sleep, and he settled again. I settled too, and was just starting to drift to sleep when he sat back up again. This time he was worried because we couldn't hear Firstborn and Beautiful Wife. "That," I told him with some asperity, "is because they're asleep."
Secondborn settled in again, and this time was quiet and still for a good half an hour. I'd missed my window for falling asleep by this point, so I was reading. (Space Unicorn Blues as it happens, and I highly recommend it.) Then the wind picked up a little, and started rustling the rain fly (which at first made me think we were maybe getting drizzled on, but no: no precipitation, just a bit of wind). That woke Secondborn up again, so I asked if he wanted a little bit of Melatonin. He agreed, and we went inside and did that, and then came back out and settled in the tent again.
It was now 11:15, and the child was A. still awake, and B. chatty.
But, I got him settled again, and the Melatonin did its work, and he finally really slept.
It still wasn't quiet outside; we're talking about the Metroplex on a Friday night, and it has a deep, steady roar composed of hundreds of engines carrying people around the city. But it was quiet enough. And while we hadn't put down mattresses, I had thrown a sleeping bag under us and the tent was set up on a nice stretch of smooth grass. I'd been worried that I might not be able to sleep on a (relatively) hard surface like that, but while I'm definitely older than I used to be I'm not old enough for that to be a problem. No, the real issue with getting comfortable is that I'm almost exactly as tall as the tent is long, which makes it impossible to sleep with my head on one arm and my legs fully extended. (Secondborn, of course, does not share this problem.) So there was a lot of shifting around and rolling over, and having my limbs in strange but not really uncomfortable positions. All in all, though, it wasn't bad; I was aware of those things, but I still managed to be asleep.
Sometime the next morning when it was starting to get light, I heard the door to the kitchen open and close. Beautiful Wife and Firstborn had retreated into the house. It had turned chilly in the early morning, and Secondborn was cuddled against my back and rapidly taking over my pillow. (I really should have seen that coming and had an extra blanket ready, but oh well.) We slept a little longer, and when it was bright enough that I couldn't sleep anymore I nudged Secondborn awake and we went inside to join them.
I went to the back room and slept a little bit longer on the bed. (Not all that much longer, really; I'd actually slept pretty well in the tent.) Secondborn, meanwhile, immediately dropped into his mother leftover (and still very hot) bath water to warm up.
Secondborn was thrilled, y'all. Not only had we Had An Adventure, but it was an adventure that he'd come up with and largely directed. Bonus points for the fact that it didn't start to rain until mid-morning, after we'd had a chance to haul in everything that had been in the tents. Double bonus points for the Beautiful Wife making scrambled eggs for the boys and bacon-sirloin and cheddar omelettes for us.
But the weekend wasn't over yet...
Friday, March 22, 2019
We were hopeful
They took us from our homes only to dump us in cavernous rooms with piles of edible nutrient-goop and basins of water. We didn't know what had happened, and at first we were terrified... but when they didn't come back, everybody just kind of settled in.
We argued about it. We thought they'd forgotten us. We thought they were preserving us, trying to save us.
So this time when they gathered a group of us and put us in a smaller container for transport, we weren't so scared. We clung to the grips and waited to see where we'd end up next. We were... hopeful.
Then the transport opened and turned, and maybe a quarter of us stumbled out into a new world: hot, dry, sandy. There was a rock formation in one direction, a shallow pool of water nearby, and another rock formation just beyond it. This one wasn't as tall as the first, and it had a cave.
Davros had just said something about taking shelter in the cave when it emerged. It came from the cave, of course. We didn't even see what it was at first, just this blur of movement like a giant hammer falling on Lilly. Only instead of being crushed, she was taken.
We fled in all directions -- any way that took us away from that cave and the beast inside. There was no plan. There was only panic.
But now we know: they didn't take us so they could protect us. They took us to be food for their horrible beasts.
There is no escape. This world is too small. So we hide. We wait. We creep outside during the day, when the beast sometimes sleeps, to take what we can of food and water. None of us expect to survive. We only wait to warn the ones who are brought here next.
We argued about it. We thought they'd forgotten us. We thought they were preserving us, trying to save us.
So this time when they gathered a group of us and put us in a smaller container for transport, we weren't so scared. We clung to the grips and waited to see where we'd end up next. We were... hopeful.
Then the transport opened and turned, and maybe a quarter of us stumbled out into a new world: hot, dry, sandy. There was a rock formation in one direction, a shallow pool of water nearby, and another rock formation just beyond it. This one wasn't as tall as the first, and it had a cave.
Davros had just said something about taking shelter in the cave when it emerged. It came from the cave, of course. We didn't even see what it was at first, just this blur of movement like a giant hammer falling on Lilly. Only instead of being crushed, she was taken.
We fled in all directions -- any way that took us away from that cave and the beast inside. There was no plan. There was only panic.
But now we know: they didn't take us so they could protect us. They took us to be food for their horrible beasts.
There is no escape. This world is too small. So we hide. We wait. We creep outside during the day, when the beast sometimes sleeps, to take what we can of food and water. None of us expect to survive. We only wait to warn the ones who are brought here next.
Thursday, March 21, 2019
My job, my career, my co-workers...
I have now received, for the first time in my life, an interoffice envelope filled with empty/used toilet-paper tubes.
I feel like this is both the culmination and the perfect summary of my career.
I'm not even the one collecting them. For fuck's sake, I just send out the emails. But here I sit, at my desk, with an envelope full of depleted toilet-paper rolls.
I long for the sweet embrace of darkness.
I feel like this is both the culmination and the perfect summary of my career.
I'm not even the one collecting them. For fuck's sake, I just send out the emails. But here I sit, at my desk, with an envelope full of depleted toilet-paper rolls.
I long for the sweet embrace of darkness.
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