Saturday Night Regulars

And so as promised...

Hello, my name is Erik, and I play RPGs.

This Fall will actually mark my twentieth year playing Steve Jackson Games' GURPS regularly. I played a little D&D in junior high and my freshman year of college (for which I like so many others thank the late Mr. Gygax), but GURPS is the game that I have stuck with.

We've dabbled in many different worlds and genres. We treated Yrth as our home for a long time. We went into Space with military/mercenaries. We played various versions of Supers. We had a running Psionics game. But Yrth and Fantasy was where we always returned. Then about ten years ago a few of made our own little world. We drew up the first continent, assigned the races, and divvied up the land.

Now with complete control over all happenings, we play once a month for most of the day. Every few months we take a break for our low powered characters, but the primary game are the world shakers. We have been spat up by the globe itself to bring light to a darkening world.

And yet there are times when we can but break down into what we really are: men who roll three six-sided dice as our group escape in a world of make-believe.

We are telling a story. Yes, it has magic swords, and sorcerers, and the occasional scantily clad damsel in distress. And yes, it has an Elf. Me.

Now I can honestly say that I started playing my Elf before they became cool. And while he has a bow that he is very good with, he prefers to use a combination of his sword and spells. Which brings me to the story I have to share.

Sharing our stories is something we all do as well. We love telling stories about the bad guy we defeated as a team, the dragon we finished off while the rest of the party was bleeding on the ground, the trove of grimoires we found in the towers library. The best are all from a first person point of view. And mine is all just to tell a joke.

Picture a dark night standing guard at a manor House in the country. I and the holy-warrior priest are near the front door. We get a magical warning of a force of assassins attacking. I cast a spell to allow me to see in the dark. This gives me a chance to magically catch and arrow coming at me that I can now see. Then I cast a spell which causes all missiles fired at me to return directly at whoever shot them. A few more spells and the exterior of the house is cleared and I have teleported into the main hallway. A fight is going on between our support and some of the assassins. I look to my left and see two coming through a window. And then they fire their crossbows. The first misses, and I am told the second is successful and I need to dodge. I simply remind the Gamemaster (GM) of my spell by saying, "No, he does." The GM thumps his forehead, and tells me that the assassin goes down with a crossbow in his chest and begins frothing at the wound and mouth due to the poison on the bolt. The player next to me says:

Well, you didn't kill him, but it was an Elf-Assisted Suicide.