The Dungeon – Fifth Edition

fireballIt’s the fifth edition of The Dungeon, an FLGS round table game of testosterone fueled D&D the likes of which is not suitable for modern, estrogen fueled players regardless of the tackle they stuff in their box.

Somehow I’ve cobbled together a ragtag band of misfit players who keep coming back for more.  Four of the players are getting pretty good at this, but we had two new guys show up, one of whom lacked that all important Y-chromosome.  Word got around about the challenge level at my table and that we don’t dick around with things like motivations and politics and whatever lace and doily, pinky raised form of D&D they play at the other tables.  As usual, the player’s motivation was to prove that she was just as good as any man at old school D&D.

Le sigh.

It’s a game shop.  Fat bastard’s game shop, fat bastard’s rules.  Chicks wanna play, chicks gonna play.  Eh.  The party needed the extra PC.  Due to some miserable CHA scores in the new party, there just weren’t many NPCs available.

Also.  She had a yonkin’ set of honkers.

This probably seems like a setup for a ‘girl D&D’ tirade.  You probably expect a lot of gross-out humor explaining how menstrual cycles and D&D just don’t mix, complete with plenty of live-in-the-field tales from last night’s session featuring our resident babymaker bumbling her way through Moldvay while clinging to disproven (read: modern) methods of play.  That would be hilarious, but it would be a lie.

She did…fine.  She needed a little help from the old hands, but most new players do.  She accepted their help gracefully (for the most part), and made reasonable and practical suggestions.  She didn’t have her nose glued to a cell phone, constantly posting and checking to see if her, “OMG! Girl OSR!” posts were getting enough likes.  She didn’t feel a need to compensate for her sex or represent her sex or any of the usual jutting-jaw habits that women have adopted after imbibing the bleak pill of modern feminism.  She was just another gamer.

In the end, though.  She didn’t enjoy herself.

As the party entered the Dungeon, I informed them that three townsfolk had gone missing.  Clearly she would have preferred a long, drawn out blah-blah with the missing townsfolk’s family and gathering clues and other not-D&D time wasters, but she went along with the brusque manner of introducing this.

Two kobolds had set up shop near the entrance to the earthen walled goblin tunnels.  The reaction table surprised her.  The dice informed me the kobolds were neutral – pay a gold and pass unmolested.  Fight and they would ring a gong that would alert the goblins to the presence of raiders.  They paid the gold, the kobolds warned them of a pit trap down a newly installed passage.  (The PCs were using the map drafted by the party TPKed in the last session.  Player knowledge is the name of this game.  How that map fell into the new party’s hands is an exercise for the reader.  You are creative, you should be able to come up with three plausible justifications.)  That was our role-playing for the session.

The rest of the session was a brutal fight with two owlbears, a trip to town to heal, and then a few wandering goblin patrols.  Not much to tell, really.  Just a solid couple of delves with acceptable casualties and a bit of gold to show for it.  Nothing really to complain about.

Unfortunately, there isn’t much to brag about either.  Her lack of enjoyment rubbed off on everyone at the table.  Afterwards, she explained that it all felt really cold and clinical.  It was all about the numbers and the logic puzzles, with none of the drama and in-game relationships that she wanted out of her gaming.  I explained that what we do at my table is real RPGs, not fake RPGs like storygames.  Ever the helpful soul, I pointed her towards titles like DungeonWorld, and Maid, and something with anime characters on the cover.  You know – not-RPGs.

Or she could continue playing D&D wrong, but if playing D&D the right way isn’t what she wants, it doesn’t make sense for her to keep playing it.  Even turning D&D into something it is not won’t work.  She won’t make D&D better for anyone, she’ll just make D&D worse for everyone.

Especially at my table, because I reject Satan and all his works.

And trying to turn D&D into a storygame is the work of the debbil!






About The Alt-Right DM

At long last, a tall cool drink of alt-right water in the midst of a liberal and cuckservative desert. Inspired by the need for soldiers in the Culture War, E. Reagan Wright volunteered to stand up to the forces of progressivism before they complete their takeover of the once energetic, diverse and just plain fun hobby of role-playing games. A lone voice in the digital wilderness preaching to that quiet, right-wing remnant that has languished in the cold for years. E. Reagan Wright loves his Mom, guns, apple pie, football, and calling that lesser game by its rightful name - soccer.
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5 Responses to The Dungeon – Fifth Edition

  1. Cirsova says:

    Y’know, I tried watching the Penny Arcade vidcast that those peeps were in from that “queering D&D article”. I gave up after about 12 minutes of Jerry Holkins narrating at them and telling them what their characters did and saw; I have no idea at what point they played D&D if ever – this is what some people want and enjoy, and I cannot fathom it.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Mr. Smith says:

    “Afterwards, she explained that it all felt really cold and clinical.”
    That. Right there. It is the biological divide that explains why boy games and girl games don’t mix. Broads want the feels because they are hardwired that way. Guys want the sense of accomplishment/victory. Sometimes the backstory/motivation is a thing with us. It is ALWAYS a thing with them.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Girl D&D is not just for girls. I participated in a marathon gaming session this last weekend and afterwards I was about to quit the group I’m playing with. Everyone’s character was a special snowflake. Threats weren’t really threats. The DM wouldn’t let the big baddies die unless someone did something ‘heroic’ (what’s not heroic about stabbing the mother fucker in the face?). I could tell that the DM was railroading us and adjusting combat on the fly (making us hit when we should have missed, giving monsters HP on an ad hoc basis, etc.). The story was all important and it was literally impossible to fail (or succeed if you tried to do it in a way the DM didn’t want). It made me disgusted with D&D. I wish I could go back in time when DMs were known as Referees and didn’t view the game as a time to write a novel.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Cirsova says:

      Game at my table, and you will be able to shoot T-Rexes with an M1 Garand and then die from one hit when the SS Obergruppenfuhrer riding it nails you with his Luger P08


    • The Alt-Right DM says:

      Indeed. It’s merely a descriptive appellation that has become necessary during these Crazy Years in which A so readily becomes Not-A. Plenty of men prefer Girl D&D in the same way that plenty of men prefer the company of cats to dogs, wine coolers to beer, soccer to football, and shaving their chest to shaving their face.


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