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How a New Player and ‘Macho Man’ Rekindled my Love of D&D
D&D is not a game of sensible decisions
The Dungeon Master (DM) had made a rookie mistake, and we were determined to make him pay.
Chad was a first time DM, working his way through the D&D 5th Edition Acquisitions: Incorporated adventure. The Acq: Inc brand is one in which the “heroes” are mercenaries and scoundrels only slightly on the right side of the law. Thus far we’d done our level best to meet the game on its terms, if not raise the shenanigans quota even higher. As a reward for our “service”, we’d been installed as proprietors of an abandoned and dilapidated franchise.
Our first order of business was hiring a majordomo, someone to Motel 6 the place while we’re out performing our specialized brand of heroics. We were presented with three options: the former majordomo, experienced and reliable; a goblin who only interviewed as a joke; and Randall Sav’age, who ate Slender James meat sticks and said ‘oh, yeahhhh’ and walked around in Speedos.
It was a stacked deck, with no real choice at all, to the DM’s mind. Surely we’d do the sensible thing and hire the former majordomo for the position (though she had presided over the previous, disastrous, franchise).
D&D is not a game of sensible decisions. At least, not how we play it. Chad’s mistake was thinking we’d do the smart thing.
But we were completely enraptured with the Macho Man, and our enjoyment was in no small part thanks to how fully the DM embraced the role. He basically channeled the spirit of Randy Savage and that was the end of any sensible decisions where he was concerned.
There is great freedom in choosing the chaotic path. In doing the ridiculous thing, whose sole merits are its ridiculousness and the mirth it will generate around the table. In treating the game as a game, and not something attempting to evoke the gravitas of The Lord of the Rings.
For a longtime, I was the forever DM. Roleplaying games tend to work like that — you initially buy the books because you’re interested in playing, and then you’re forever after on the lookout for victims, erm, players, without which you are just someone reading manuals by yourself and not actually playing a game. (I’m not sure there is anything nerdier than reading tabletop RPG books that you know you’ll never play for lack of players or time, but reading them anyway because you love these games so much. I say this as someone who has done this for years.) Finding players can start to feel sorta like the stereotypical van that lures kids with the promise of candy. You’re desperate and probably let in a few that you later regret. And once you actually find people willing to play, you — as the instigator — are usually left to actually run said game.
Which isn’t a bad thing. I prefer being the DM because I’m a closet control freak and also enjoy the world building side of the game. And I have all the books and plenty of dice and a room dedicated to this great hobby. I’ve basically spent my life getting to the point where I can run RPGs for my friends for the rest of my life and never run out of material.
But after running a game for years, I’d fallen into some ruts. My campaign had been too long dealing with world-ending threats; there is no room for Macho Man when everything is dire and grim, or so I thought. DM burnout is real, and I had a bad case of it.
It was so bad that I actually considered declining Chad’s invitation. Between the campaign and an all-consuming RPG-centric Kickstarter, I was basically done with D&D. I wanted time away from dwarves and elves and fantasy worlds.
Turns out playing was exactly what I needed. There is incredible freedom in just being a player and only worrying about your own character. When your only agenda is to do something silly and make your friends laugh. Wednesday night has quickly become a light in these otherwise dark times.
For his part, Chad has quickly taken to the role, inventing characters on the spot, allowing the players to set the agenda, and doing silly voices. He even created custom dice boxes for each of us for the first time we can all get together and play in person.
His enthusiasm and sheer joy for the hobby has reminded me that this is just a game, after all. If we can’t laugh and joke, what is the point?
I’m actually looking forward to when I don the DM’s mantle again, but am in no hurry to do so. I’m simply having too much fun running around in Chad’s world.
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