Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Chris and the Giant Tick
I would occasionally pull it out and stare at it. I marveled at the sinewy dragon sitting atop his mountain of gold. I wondered about the heroes, who in my mind stood somewhat shakily at the entrance to the dragon's chamber. What hardships had they come through to be standing face to face with almost certain death? Why were there only two of them? Certainly it would take more than a single fighter and a single wizard to take down such a tough looking dragon. What if the dragon breathed fire? Could the fighter's armor save him? Did the wizard know any spells that would allow him to bring the beast down? Drop that torch, man, and start casting!!!
I badgered my parents (8-year olds are pretty good at badgering if I remember) and at some point, between the guilt of having consigned my aunt's gift to collect dust under a bookshelf, and the need to shut me up, they agreed to play this very new, very odd game. So that weekend my father, my mother, my uncle (I think he was 16 at the time) and I all sat down to play. My father had read the rules over the course of that week, so he would be Dungeon Master. The rest of us grabbed some 6-sided dice (neither my parent's Yahtzee, nor their Risk sets would ever be the same) and started rolling up characters.
Oh well, my mother the magic-user would certainly handle the spell casting duties for our group. "Really Mom? Read Magic?" *facepalm*
My uncle made a stalwart fighter... with 3 whole hit points.
Believe it or not, most of our time was spent outfitting our fledgling expedition, going down the price list and discussing in detail what we would need for an extended trip underground. A lot of thought and deliberation went into managing our meager equipment budget. This was serious business and we were prepared for anything!
I wish I could regale you with a detailed tale of our misadventures, but it was a long time ago and I don't remember much. I remember the now famous room of pools, but I am pretty sure we were too cautious to go randomly drinking murky water in such a dangerous environment. I remember my uncle and I meticulously mapping the halls and rooms of the dungeon, determined to be able to find our way out when we were tired and carrying armfuls of loot.
From that point, we continued our expedition, injured, wet and relieved of much of our equipment, trying to find our way out of the dungeon. As we stumbled through the caves we were beset upon by a most horrible beast, the infamous giant tick!!
At this point, my mother and uncle dived behind a rock, both having 1 hit point. My 8-year old self, with a whopping 3 hit points left was like, "Let's Do This!!!" and I charged the foul insect.
We traded ineffectual blows for a bit, but then the tick hit me. My dad frowned as he rolled the d6 on the table for everyone to see... I breathed a sigh of relief. Only 2 points of damage. I countered, hit, and maxed my damage, slaying the beast.
And then we called it a night.
And never played again. We never escaped Module B1. Somewhere, my uncle is still hiding behind that rock. My mom's mage is still waiting for her chance to cast Read Magic.
And I am still the valiant Tick-Slayer, hit for 2 points of damage and 35 years of enjoyment.