Being a Tale of Battle from the March of Glaives. There are many sayings about Dwarves. Plenty of them focus on their drinking, or work ethic. Racists favor citing Dwarven greed or miserly behavior. Ironically, in bars and taverns dwarf tossing is more likely to come up than dwarf drinking. Whether the topic is pro or con usually depends on the disposition of Dwarves in the vicinity. While most might consider the idea of being thrown for sport or combat to be an offensive pastime, some just like the sensation of being thrown through the air. Others still take this as a point of pride that they are small enough to be thrown but hearty enough to make an impact upon landing. "Think about it," the pro-Dwarf-tossing Dwarf usually begins, "Ya' never hear about Gnome tossing do ya'? Just imagining it brings a smile to the face. And Halfling tossing, well, that just sounds mean! No, no, no. Now think of a Dwarf, all muscle and beard or flowing lass locks, tucked up in a ball that springs open into a wild whirl of blades and bearings before it lands! The thought itself sends most runnin' in fear!" Or so the argument might go. One thing that's rarely spoken of, however, is Dwarven hearing. You see, among the mixed population of the Republic of the Black Gem, Dwarves are the shortest race that is likely to be stationed on the front lines. Of course the smaller races have many active combat roles in the legions, but as far as infantry forces go, those races are more likely to make up scouting or flanking forces. So Dwarves in the infantry find themselves about a foot below the wide mix of peoples fighting alongside them. This is why among the infantry of the Black Gem, Dwarves make up the front line. Those behind them can see over them, and the Dwarves themselves can rarely make out the devastatingly overwhelming forces that they face. Young Dwarves love to boast that they'd never run or break their lines, even if they could see the entire hordes of the Nine Hells before them. History says otherwise. Veteran Dwarven soldiers, however, know that it's not the sight of what's in front of them, but the sounds of what's behind that should drive prudent decisions that war sometimes requires. Veteran Dwarves can serve as a sort of barometer for a battle. They've developed a sixth sense for judging the greater fight at large. It goes beyond what they can hear to something akin to feeling the pulse of a battle. As though it were a living being struggling in its first and mostly likely last thrust of a short-lived and bloody life. Alvaro Montes wouldn't have called himself a veteran. The fact that he'd started this battle as one of a handful of surviving members of the 3rd battalion made him a veteran. Nor would he call himself a leader. The fact that the other soldiers listened as he hollered orders urging them on and warnings protecting them from being blindsided by hobgoblin war beasts made him a leader. If one wanted to be technical on the matter, the fact that his squadron's captain took an arrow to the neck probably helped that leader argument as well, but to those that need that argument often have the fact that leader and commander are not always same. For Alvaro all those distinctions and titles meant very little. The fact that his finely crafted rapier and been sheared down to half its length some ten minutes prior meant far more. It meant his arm was tired from stabbing well-armored Hobgoblin soldiers in the joints of their armor with a jagged piece of metal. It meant picking up a small throwing axe in his off-hand and hacking like an inartful butcher, rather than the finely-honed gentleman warrior he fancied himself. It meant being splattered in green ichor and red viscera that painted him in the death of friend and foe alike. In short, it meant every bellowing shout of short Dwarf carried the weight of mad monster behind it. It meant that when he yelled "Shields right! Hounds incoming!" that every soldier within arms-reach of a shield not immediately facing down a foe rushed to guard their right flank, as though they'd been warned by a blood-soaked demon that the wolves of the Infinite Wastes came for their very souls. It meant when he followed up with "Up and under! GUT THEM!" that all those shield-bearers with wild wargs and wolves teeth inches from their faces found it within them to produce a blade, even if it was just a dinner knife or broken arrowhead, and stab repeatedly into the soft bellies of the beasts. Unfortunately it also meant that when Alvaro paused, taking in the cacophony of the battle, so too did his soldiers. As the hounds slumped onto the floor, their blood adding to the slick viscosity of the mud beneath Alvaro's feet, a great Goblin cheer rang out across the battlefield. It was an odd moment -- their flanking attack had been repelled and yet their forces let loose a coordinated cry of triumph and glee as though they were responding to someone, or something. Alvaro clambered up the pile of dead Wargs -- wolves the size of horses. He was forced to stab one with his broken blade on the way up, but on the plus side … he needed the hand hold. From atop the mound of fur and wounds, Alvaro first saw his soldiers pouncing on the opportunity to backstab and throat slit those Hobgoblins so distracted by this great cry that they'd turn their backs on active combatants. And he watched them die with looks of pride and victory in their eyes. Then, he followed those dying gazes to see the cause: a grand glaive wielded by a heavily-armored Hobgoblin, thrust rhythmically into the air. Each time it stabbed the sky the chorus of cheers rang out. "What're they saying? Glory?" Alvaro asked, only speaking a smattering of the goblin language. "THE Glory. Specifically," one of the other soldiers corrected his translation. Alvaro didn't understand the need for a distinction, but when the mighty weapon came crashing down upon an equally ornate shield, a shield clearly made to be paired with the glaive now striking it, Alvaro knew he was witnessing something momentous. The Glory shattered the shield in a flash of divine wrath that burst across the field. "Dorian's doom …" Alvaro muttered as the energy of a deity crashed like a wave over the sea of soldiers. An understanding settled into Alvaro's heart as the energy washed past him. Glory and Honor had been the divine weapons of Iro's champions since the days of the first republic. Every soldier had prayed to the god of victory and righteous war, most had dreamt of carrying those magical arms into a fight, and now here he was watching them be stolen by the enemy. Iro's own glory had now been twisted, turned against his own followers. And now, the call of the Hobgoblin leader had again changed. Alvaro just looked to his soldiers for a translation. "The Glory Maker is ours… charge." On another day, at another time, Alvaro would've rolled his eyes at someone translating the goblin command for 'charge' to him. On this day however, he merely shifted his gaze in horror as an emboldened army following a charismatic leader came barreling down at them. Across the Republic's battle lines, many of the soldiers were too distracted with the immediate threats facing them to understand the impending slaughter. Alvaro shouted up and down the line, he ordered his soldiers to carry his warning, to grab speaking stones, use minor magics, flags, flares and all other communication forms to alert the army. The call to regroup came barely in time. But watching the losses the Republic soldiers were suffering, one would be forgiven in thinking it hadn't come at all. Volleys of arrows, bolts of lightning, even bombastic balls of fire did nothing to disrupt the organized rush of Hobgoblin steel chewing through the soldiers of the Republic. Alvaro's unit had become the singular point holding its position as the battle lines collapsed around them. They fought as they retreated, killing as many as they could while falling back, struggling to keep from getting cut off from the rest of the army. A sky ship attempting to cover the infantries' retreat and regroup was caught ablaze by Goblin magics. Its crashing into the oncoming Hobgoblin forces only served stem the tide briefly. Alvaro watched survivors attempting to climb free from the wreckage. "We have to get them out! Form up! Move! Move! MOVE!" Alvaro shouted above the sounds of bashing metal and crackling wood, and so his soldiers moved. They rushed along the battlefront deflecting incoming arrows crawling over the dead bodies to reach the wreckage. Most of the survivors were dragging themselves away from the burning boards when Alvaro arrived. "Encircle the wounded! If you can carry a weapon grab it now!" "The captain's up there!" one of the air crew cried, his tears of pain and sorrow washed clean the only parts of his face not covered in black soot or crimson blood. "We cant leave him!" Alvaro had come this far; giving up and abandoning someone now didn't make sense. He followed the crewman's point to see the silhouette of a hulking behemoth with a thick muscular body and arms that could drag on the floor, standing atop the flaming wreckage, heaving goblin corpse back down into the fray that dared to try to climb aboard and claim his ship from him. "That's the captain? What the hell is that?" Alvaro asked, seeing hints of blue skin illuminated by the fires of the ship burning beneath this creature. "No, that's his mount. THAT'S the Captain!" The crewman responded as one of Alvaro's soldiers began dragging him to his feet. Looking back, Alvaro saw a small figure emerge atop the blue behemoth. It was Halfling-sized, wearing a shark jaw as a mask and tossing magics into the fray, all the while holding onto the reins of the blue skinned monster beneath him. Alvaro didn't have time to process what he was seeing. All he could do was climb the wreckage to get this … captain … and his crew out of here. "Are you mad!? Get down, we're overrun!" Alvaro commanded the Halfling, who looked entirely unfazed by Alvaro's blood-soaked visage. "I can't! I have come to deliver a package to that Hobfuck right there!" The Halfling pointed to the commander of the Hobgoblin forces wielding The Glory Maker and ordering his soldiers onto the burning wreckage. The Halfling spoke with a confident, almost mad-like glee even as his toad monster ripped limbs off enemy soldiers, only to sling them back at the oncoming forces. "Good job Chaos Toady!" The Captain cheered, patting his mount's head. "Thanks Captain Ades," the blue toad monster croaked back. "I taught him that!" Ades beamed proudly back to Alvaro. "Dorian's doom," Alvaro cursed himself and his luck. "What's the package?" he asked frantically, now being forced to defend himself from the swarming Hobgoblins. "It's him!" Captain Ades said, drawing Alvaro's attention to the unconscious, unarmored man slumped over the railing. "Here!" Alvaro looked just in time to catch the small crystalline vial Ades had tossed to him. With no time to waste, Alvaro splashed the liquid down the throat of this stranger, who instantly coughed himself awake. "I hope you have some miracle wrapped beneath those bandages." Alvaro said, pulling the man up to his feet by his linen-bound hands. "Wish I did," was all the man said before looking past Alvaro. The relative quiet that had come over the battlefield did more than the stranger's gaze to alert Alvaro to the fact that the Hobgoblin war leader, that heavily-armored soldier who minutes earlier had shattered a shield blessed by a god, had just climbed onto a burning crashed airship to kill … most likely all of them. "The Wanderer. You should have known better than to stumble your way before me." The armored Hobgoblin spoke loud and clear, addressing the barely-conscious man. "The Revolution," said the man. "We both know that I only end up where I'm destined to be." The man straightened his back, attempting to strike an equally imposing figure. It might have worked, if he wasn't wincing in clear pain as he did so. "Then thanks be to destiny for giving me the joy of your being your end." Before the sentence had finished, the two figures were charging each other. Alvaro had seen unarmed monks break stone and shatter metal before, but even witnessing those miracles he saw no way for this wounded Wanderer to dent The Revolution's armor, much less defeat him. The skill of these two combatants was beyond the embellished fish tales of glorious fighters that drunkards and old vets would tell after a few too many drinks. And yet, even with the help of Ades and his chaos toad (the skills of whom were impressive in their own right) Alvaro could tell The Revolution's victory was certain. But for a moment, something in his gut pulled his eyes away from the fight before him, as the battle barometer in his soul told him to look across the battlefield. The Hobgoblins were watching … ready, eager, no needing to witness the victory of their leader. Ades was thrown from Chaos Toady as Alvaro watched. And there it was ... sliding across the deck, having fallen from the captain's belt, was a bard's cone. Used to magically enhance one's voice and send it booming out. As the Dwarven instinct of battle took over, Alvaro rushed across the deck to grab the cone and began yelling order back to the Republic's forces. "COUNTER ATTACK!" began his first command. "Now, while the enemy is distracted! Line breakers to the front!" His words echoed over the battlefield, he shouted coordinates for magic bombardments, and siege breaker blitzes. The soldiers of the Black Gem rallied to Alvaro's call, but this resurgence would be short lived once The Revolution emerged victorious. Looking back at the microcosm of this war taking place on the deck of this ship, he saw Captain Ades wounded on the floor, the blue chaos toad trying to drag itself to its feet, and The Revolution readying a coup de grace for The Wanderer. Alvaro's feet took him running forward without thinking. The Dwarf rushed to the scene, desperate to stop what would surely rally the Hobgoblin forces. He had no plan ... but he didn't need one. "Chaos Toady!" Captain Ades croaked a command at the mount he'd long-since been thrown from. Then Alvaro felt the floor disappear from beneath his feet as the blue behemoth hoisted him into the air, and launched him across the bow of the ship like a cannonball. He slammed into The Revolution and felt The Glory Maker cut into his torso, but Alvaro grabbed the glaive and held on with a death grip. The momentum of being thrown carried the dwarf past the enemy commander, and he dragged the magic weapon away with him. Alvaro fought the oncoming blackness as he pulled the bladed part of the glaive from his gut. When he heard a whispered word from Ades across the ship, he somehow found the strength to get to his feet. He looked back just in time to watch The Revolution slump to the deck. Something was glinting in the waning light -- the handle of a rapier with a broken blade, stuck out of the side of the Hobgoblin's helmet, jammed in there by The Wanderer.
Alvaro could see little, and hear less, but in his heart he knew there was one last thing to do. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he climbed to the edge of the wreck and hoisted The Glory Maker high into the air, so ally and enemy alike could see the turning of the glaive.
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This week, we ran our first ever TWITTER CHAT. It was the inaugural event for #Tabletopics, a new weekly TTRPG-centered conversation. The opening topic? How YOU were introduced to tabletop. So, let's dive in! There's a lot of great highlights to cover, and we can't wait to revisit what we learned and discussed this past Thursday evening.  I was fourteen in high school. We had one set of dice and a player's handbook. I think my first experience was MTG Arena of the Planeswalkers! I think I was 14 but it was such a super fun game. My high school boyfriend introduced me to 3.5 when I was fourteen! A good number of our chatters were in their teen years when they first discovered tabletop and roleplay. In fact, FOURTEEN was the most recurring age. For a lot of us, that's when we were just starting high school. The fact that this adventuring bug hits us when we're about to venture into a terrifying and new world says a lot about the importance of escapism. There are new social dynamics to be considered, harder classwork, and the pressure of getting everything "right" is laid on much stronger than it was in earlier school years. How wonderful it is that we were able to turn to a magical world of adventure and daring heroics to help us through it!  Rogue Trader because it was the first one husband and I got to play together. And we ended up together on game and out of game. #DnD5e, always. Its accessibility, and the way I can easily get people to play and pick it up and feel good about it is really special. Changeling the Dreaming. It’s an RPG about being an outsider and different in a world that doesn’t understand you and wants you to conform. Very impactful as a young queer teen for me. Of all the questions we asked on Thursday, THIS one had the most varied answers. From AD&D to Vampire the Masquerade to RuneQuest, everyone had their own reasons for enjoying roleplay. As with any art form, certain things speak to us in different ways. Some of us enjoy the element of familiarity, and stick with the first TTRPG we ever played. It's comfortable, like coming home every time you play. Then, there are those who found lasting love or friendship at the table, or those who love the experience they can craft as a Dungeon Master, and their love of the game is centered around building worlds for others. And, finally, we have players who found something they could truly relate to in a game. Something that maybe isn't so easy to manage in the real world at first, but helps remind you that you're not alone.  I will always promote roleplay and exploring characters but my true love is combat. I really enjoy creating characters and interacting with the worlds and people who live in them. I especially live for those moments in which players come to a realization and have big progression moments for their characters. As a Dungeon Master, I love exploration and social. Creating worlds, interacting with NPCs and PCs, etc. But as a PLAYER, nothing feels more satisfying than a great win over a tough combat encounter. We found a bit of a theme with this question. A lot of our storytellers and Dungeon Masters preferred to build and explore the world from behind the screen, but really just wanted to hit things whenever they joined the rest of the table. The desire for "success" in RPGs is measured in different ways by different people, and apparently different ways by the same people as well! When our Dungeon Master builds a beautiful story that captures our imaginations, he feels fulfilled. But, when he joins us as a player, he is just as thrilled to deal the final blow to a Big Boss, with no roleplay or story involved. I believe that the true beauty in the RPG Pillars is that the mix of all of them, when done right, can satisfy every player at your table. Combat moments that feel like action movies can be thrilling for your barbarian or fighter. A political intrigue where your bard or rogue gets to shine not only makes them feel useful, but often gives the lore a chance to be explored. There are so many ways to balance a table experience, why settle for just one?  I have always been a fan of some sort of map, but I also can really enjoy just a good Theatre of The Mind for any good ttrpg. Theatre of the mind. To me, it maintains immersion and duplicates the hectic and confusing nature of 6 seconds of combat. I will always prefer Theatre Of The Mind. It gives you more flexibility. No “I have to count exactly these hexes” holding you back, as a DM or a player. If someone gets creative enough, HELL YEAH they should be able to! Maps feel very limiting sometimes. There is something beautifully nostalgic, in my opinion, about group storytelling using only our imaginations. It brings people together in an incredibly unique way, where you aren't tied down by grid squares or exact numbers, but you are encouraged to stretch your own creativity. Of course, there are inherent issues with Theatre of the Mind (which I will cover in a future post) but they are easily manageable, and the payout far outweighs the problems. It's worth exploring, when you can join a team in person. The lovely thing about this day and age, however, is that you don't always have to be right at the table with your fellow adventurers. Many of our chatters mentioned how great mediums like Discord and Roll20 are, for when you just don't have people to play with in person. Don't ever let your situation in life prevent you from finding a party. Many of us may prefer Theatre of the Mind, but at the end of the day, we're just excited to play.  My 1st experience I was 12 or so, only been playing a few years, but helped my friends make characters and ran some of the old modules. Eventually ran some campaigns later. Prefer to play, my favorite DM is my sister, who I introduced and ran a campaign for. My first DMing experience was about a year ago with Adventurers League. I had no idea what I was doing but my DM and the usual backups were sick and I ran something. Now I occasionally do table catchups and such but I don’t DM all the time but I’m getting better at it. It was really a lot of fun! But I ended up getting overwhelmed after a couple of sessions, so I may wait till I am a little more balanced with at home life. Something shifts in us as players as we step behind the screen for the first time. We are no longer just a part of the story, we are in charge of EVERYONE'S enjoyment at the table. That can, understandably, be overwhelming. But I am here to tell you: KEEP GOING! Just look at what can be built! Our chatter who introduced his sister to D&D and ran her first campaign, and now she is his favorite Dungeon Master. The gamer who didn't know she was being dropping into DMing, but handled it like a champ, and keeps coming back to it now. Even the player who had a blast, but may wait awhile before returning to it.
Everyone gets there at their own pace. And everyone lends their own voice and style to the story. Don't be afraid to give it a try! You may love it, or you may hate it. But the possibility of becoming the creator of your own world should never be ignored, if that is a dream you have. Too often, our fear of not being "good enough" as Dungeon Masters can cripple us, but that voice telling you you don't deserve to run a game is WRONG. We talked with masters of all levels on Thursday, and we were proud of every single one of them. They all deserve to be behind the screen, and so do you. Get out there, and keep playing! Keep learning! Keep rolling those dice, adventurers! Whether you prefer to play or run, whether you are a play-by-post aficionado or you have your own to-scale dungeon run in your basement, the world of Tabletop Roleplay needs YOUR voice. Keep chatting with us every Thursday night, 8 PM Eastern Time, as we dive into even more Tabletopics. This week, join us for our next discussion: CHARACTER BUILDING! From stat rolls to alignments, there's so much more to be discovered! We'll see you soon, adventurers. Don't forget to follow us on Twitter @RandomNCounter, and be sure to let us know what topics YOU would like discussed in the future! Too often in life we are told that our childhood hobbies and passions will never amount to much. We're encouraged to let creativity die out, in favor of more "reasonable" pursuits. And while we do sometimes have to put those instincts aside to take care of our families or ourselves, we should never lose that spark completely. After all, who knows when you might suddenly pick up the hobby again, and create something that will outshine and outlive your wildest dreams. How lucky for us that Gary Gygax was one such man.  Born on July 27th, 1938, Ernest Gary Gygax was always a creative and curious soul. He spent his childhood playing make-believe with neighborhood friends and board games at home. As early as 5 years old, he already adored card games and chess. He grew into a young man obsessed with science fiction and fantasy, filling his time with the stories of H.P. Lovecraft and Jack Vance. Even in the midst of his work and family life as an adult, where he found jobs as a shipping clerk and insurance underwriter, Gygax always maintained his passion for gaming. His obsession with wargames in particular would go on to inspire him to create his own worlds, rules, and entire gaming system.  It may be hard to imagine a world without D&D now. Not only has it been around for many our entire lifetimes, but it has pervaded pop culture in shows like The Big Bang Theory and Stranger Things. Even if you don't play it, you have heard of it. And if you do play, more often than not you can point to a moment at the table where you fell in love with the game. For most of us here at the REP, that love keeps us coming back night after night. Gary Gygax was able to essentially create a new style of storytelling, one that perfectly illustrates the idea we previously discussed: that roleplay is a living art form. Spells we know and use now in every game were born at Gygax's own table, and created by his children and their characters. They are a part of the very lore of the world. Gygax's own tale was full of failure and defeat. He was deemed unfit to join the Marines. He was high school dropout. At one point he was fired from his stead job of almost a decade, and left to help provide for his wife and five children on what he could make cobbling shoes in his basement. His catalog of health problems included walking pneumonia, multiple strokes, heart attacks. And yet, like the very heroes he helped create an entire game for, Gygax kept fighting back. His personal victories can be found in every page of our own Dungeons and Dragons books and supplements. And the message that goes along with them is clear: don't give up. Your dreams are worth pursuing. I would like the world to remember me as the guy who really enjoyed playing games and sharing his knowledge and his fun pastimes with everybody else." -- Gary Gygax Gary Gygax is fondly referred to as "The Father of Roleplay." There is no doubt in our minds that this title is well-earned. But he could not have known, when he began, how much his games would change the lives of those who played them. Here's just a few of the ways our own team has been touched by Gygax's legacy:
 For as long as humanity has been communicating, we have spent our spare time telling stories. Whether they take the form of prehistoric cave paintings, epics like Homer's Odyssey, or children telling ghost stories at a slumber party, something inside of us longs to pass on legends, histories, and fairy tales. Songs. Movies. Books. Theatrical productions, whether simple or grand. Each one of these tells a story, though they all may tell them differently. And we are content with such creative mediums. Many of us enjoy sitting down in a movie theater with a bucket of popcorn to enjoy the latest Star Wars movie, or indulge in a fluffy romantic comedy. Plenty of us have favorite books or graphic novels, and stacks of unread treasures waiting at home to be cracked open. All of these are familiar, and comfortable. So, what makes Tabletop Roleplay so different?As a storytelling tool, there is a unique sort of magic in roleplay, and a chance for players of any level to create wondrous tales of their own. You may never star in a major motion picture, and you may never want to. You might not possess the talent or inclination to write the next great classic, and Broadway may never call your name. But at the table, you step into a world of living adventure. A world where your choices immediately impact the story, and your ideals influence how good, or bad, everything turns out in the end. Whereas a movie theater separates you from the action, at the table you are a part of it. A key part. No matter how many fellow adventurers journey with you, and no matter how much or how little you are comfortable contributing, you matter. Your ideas and visions matter. Your story matters.   The art of roleplay (and it is, in fact, an art) takes those recognizable elements we understand about storytelling -- characters, plot, action -- and puts them directly into the hands of its players and dungeon masters. Not only that, but it brings a necessary teamwork and collaboration to the table. Even in a party where everyone is fighting among themselves, they still move the story along together. The variables of dice rolls and random encounters are experienced as a team, giving you the chance to transcend above ordinary entertainment. Roleplay is, and should be, a combination of so many different art forms. We improvise, thinking fast on our feet and putting ourselves in the mindset of our characters, as many professional actors do every day. We write our backstories, some long and some short, and our bards craft poetry and song. We often draw our own art and maps, trying to bring visuals to the worlds we've created. It doesn't have to be perfect, it simply has to be. That's where all stories begin. So, let's stop putting roleplay aside as if it were a lesser art. Let us not be ashamed of this hobby we've come to know and love, nor pass judgement on the way others play it. That's the glorious thing about art: making it your own. Break the rules, if it suits your table! Make up your own homebrews! Stick exactly to the script, and never deviate. No matter if you play with three people in your garage, login and play-by-post online, or stream from a lit studio with a cast of twenty. All are valid, and ALL are the "right way" to play. Who knows? Maybe you will come up with the next biggest thing in RPGs, at your very own table. From Athens to Eberron, storytelling as a concept has constantly shifted and grown. The art of the tale is magnificent in its simplicity, and its ability to stretch our imaginations, and make us the gods of our own tiny worlds. Here, we celebrate that art, and the grand traditions that come with it. Every story, from the most innocent nursery rhymes to the heroic epics, deserves to be appreciated. Join us as we dive into every realm, and explore every corner of roleplaying craft, in our brand new blog. Welcome, friends, to Once Upon a Tabletop.  |
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AuthorKaitlin Bellamy is a professional actor, author, and narrator. She has made her living with the art of storytelling, and now co-runs Random Encounter Productions with Dungeon Master Cody Stone. See more of her work here! |
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