I cringed as our Pally, Eric the Generic, took another huge hit. With a frown, I subtracted 13 hit points from the already dwindling health pool I had recorded on my giant yellow sticky note. Looking at his Puppetmaster, we confirmed with one another how much health he had left, and I went back to studying my yellow sticky, considering whether or not to use my Daily healing power.

My fiancé leaned over my shoulder, and said with some amusement, "What the hell is that?"

Glancing briefly at him, I responded that it was my personal record of everyone's current health and temporary hit points. I was also loosely keeping track of various bonuses floating around the table.

My annoying fiancé chuckled "So what, that's like your own personal Healbot?" (Healbot is a WoW add-on that aids healers).

At this I bristled defensively. I may be new, but I'm already learning very quickly that the MMO I currently favor is looked down upon by many in the table top gaming universe. If you started with table top gaming and moved to MMOs, it's not so bad. The obvious similarities between 4e and WoW, however, are the source of many criticisms. I get why people are irritated that D&D is becoming more like WoW, and so I understand some of the residual resentment towards WoW players like me, who only started playing D&D with 4e. Sometimes I feel like an annoying American tourist in Paris, who insists everyone speak to me in English and fry my potatoes in pure lard.

But the only group gaming experience I have comes from WoW... so it is inevitable that much of my group gaming mindset reflects that experience. In order to understand some of the elements foreign to me in the table top world, I often have to find a similar comparison from WoW. It may be rather embarrassing, but hell at least I'm trying.

Shamed by my obvious noob mistake, I then asked my uber annoying fiancé how I was supposed to know who to heal and when if I didn't know what their health was. He looked back at me, somewhat troubled, and remained quiet for a few moments as he considered this. "Ask them?" he suggested.

But wouldn't it just be easier to keep my own records? Then I don't need to bother everyone, who is focused on figuring out other game mechanics, and decide who needs to be healed most, or if everyone needs some help. It's part of my decision making process... I need all the math and information laid out in front of me in order to optimally choose the best ability for the occasion. Am I really just way too OCD?

Is role-playing supposed to make you do this much soul-searching?

Feeling fairly wrong-footed by the words of my impertinent uber annoying fiancé (who later told me that it probably was actually a good idea to keep track of health pools), I tried to be less obvious with my record keeping. Even though our DM assured me that there was nothing wrong with my strategy, I can't help but feel that I've got a long way to go before I really feel I fit in at The Table.

Is there a set amount of XP, or a particular list of required games I must play, or perhaps even a set amount of time playing before I am no longer a noob? When does one stop being a tourist, and really begin to feel like a native gamer?



fin

~Elimeny

Friday night I went to a couple of game stores in the area with some of my IRL friends. A couple of the guys over at Save or Die Radio started up a newbie D&D gaming night for a few of us who have never really had a chance to try out D&D - and it's an absolute blast. I love it, and I'm incredibly grateful that someone finally gave me a chance to try it out. Which brings me to my point.

Why are so many gamers such complete jerks to newbies?

I've always had a problem with this, but it didn't really come into the forefront until one of the employees at one of the gaming stores we went to was a complete ass to me, because he hates 4th edition D&D, and we're playing it. If you don't know what 4th ed. is, it's the newest edition of D&D - and it's like a very watered down, simplified version of D&D. It's a lot easier to make a character, and, truth be told, it's a lot like playing WoW, honestly. Which a lot of D&Ders absolutely hate. I get that - it's a big change from 3rd edition, and people don't always like change. Think of it like the stat streamlining coming in WoW - for the people who enjoy the difficulty, enjoy the effort needed, they feel robbed of what they loved of the game. It doesn't make you an elitist jerk to enjoy the more complicated aspects of a game.

The thing is, you don't have to stop playing 3rd edition just because 4th is now available. A lot of people have chosen not to. But what's great about 4e is that it is a lot easier to learn if you're new.

Which I suppose is why gamer store asshat scoffed at us when we mentioned that. With powerful hand gestures, he made it quite clear to me that he didn't give a damn about whether or not the new edition made it easier for new folks to join the world of D&D - for all he cared, they could go jump off a cliff, right? For many gamers, it seems like some kind of exclusive, elitist circle. As someone who is in the Academia world IRL, let me just tell you that this attitude makes me absolutely sick.

I had this problem all through my childhood/adolescence years. Had I asked any of my friends at any point in time, all the way up through college, if they were interested in trying out D&D, I would have been absolutely ridiculed, and probably found myself with fewer friends. D&D isn't sexy, didn't you know? 16 year old girls are supposed to be sexy - not hanging out with the freaks and geeks playing Magic or D&D in the cafeteria.

I don't know if it was because I was female or because I always lived in pretty snooty areas, but for all my interest in RPGs, I was completely in the closet about it - because all I ever heard about it in my environment was how lame, geeky, and loserish it was.

And then I met my fiance, and all of his friends were gamers, and it was suddenly okay to be a little geeky. Suddenly, no one thought anything of it if you would prefer to paint minis with some friends on Saturday night than to go get trashed at a bar. Yet even then, it took 4 years to get invited to the gaming table for myself. I listened to all their conversations eagerly, but was still scared to ask if I could join. That fear was a combination of being a female, and someone who didn't know how D&D worked. All the gamer guys were... well.. guys. It was their thing, and I really didn't want to intrude - or humiliate myself and embarass them by asking.

WoW was how I was able to carefully nudge myself in, though it was never my motive. I've mentioned before that I started in computer RPGs. I've been playing them for nearly 20 years - but I always played solo games. Until World of Warcraft, I never played RPGs with anyone else. I had no one else to play with. But in WoW, youmeet other people to play with. All the fiance's gamer friends were playing WoW, eventually we all wound up on the same server, started gaming together, and the rest is history. And then one of the guys decided to take advantage of the watered-down-ness of 4th ed, and offer up a gaming night for a couple of us slightly outside the hardcore gamer circle who wanted to try it. But it still took 4 years for me, and many many more for one or two of the others in our newbie group.

So why is that? Why is it when I walk into a PvP battleground, to try and learn how to PvP, I'm yelled at for being a noob? No one gives suggestions, or offers to help. I just get told l2play, and go home. Why do I see people trying to learn not to stand in fires in raids and PuGs get ridiculed? How exactly does one learn to play, if they are ostracized for needing to learn? For being new? For not knowing the ropes yet? At least in WoW, being a chick doesn't matter and doesn't prevent you from gaming - because no one belives you're a chick anyway.

Why are so many gamers so exclusive? If you want to D&D, but you play WoW, prepare yourself for the criticism. There's like an unspoken scale of gamer geekiness - the low ends of the scale make fun of the higher ends for being "way more of a loser, way geekier", and the high ends of the scale won't let the lower ends in to learn how to play.

World of Warcraft Players -> New D&Ders -> Old D&Ders -> LARPers

I think the answer to that question lies in the problem itself. It's a defense mechanism, if you will. Fellow gamers build a protective bubble around themselves, not letting too many people in, and avoiding those outside. Maybe it's because they are so used to being given crap for enjoying a game.

There was always the gamer cafeteria table - Middle School. High School. And even University. That's right - I remember in the dining hall at my University, there was a giant group of tables full of gamers who were there all day long, holding down the fort while others were in classes, playing Magic, playing WoW on their laptops, even playing with some minis. And everyone gawked at the geek table. I never ate in the Dining Hall without hearing the people around me comment about what losers those gamers were - and I was always too shy to sit at the gaming table and ask if someone wanted to remind me the rules of Magic. 

What irritates the hell out of me, is that when people find out I play WoW now, I can almost always predict their reactions. Half of the guys will say "Ah, okay." The other half will say "Really?! Me too!" or wistfully "Man, I used to play. What kind of toon?". And almost every single girl will stare at me unpleasantly, and stifle laughter. Even my oldest friends find it strange, and tease me affectionately.

Knitting as a hobby? Okay. Scrapbooking? Sure. Bicycling? Hey that's cool. Gaming? OMG WHAT A GEEK.

There's a reason why so many of my healing guides are directed towards the new healer who is completely lost. Because I sympathize with you folks. I was once a brand new healer myself - and I got sick of people saying "l2play" without telling me how to learn. I'm a new D&Der, and I get pissed off when people scoff at me playing 4th edition. To every new player who finds this blog - you are always welcome here. You can ask any question, no matter how ridiculously stupid you may think it is. As long as you show interest instead of ridicule, I am more than happy to give you any help I can.

For the record, I also enjoy classic literature, Latin poetry, debating Russian History (why yes, you CAN debate history), and waxing poetic on theology, psychology, and philosophy. Those used to be my hobbies. But I was never able to find a companion to discuss those topics with who was not an elitist prick. Hobbies are much more fun with companions. 

Plus, it got really boring without a staff.

I sat across the dirty table from the pretty young dwarf, who was applying to be my character. As she sipped on her pint, I slowly checked things off my list.

“Cleric?”   “Aye.” 

“Dwarf?”   “Obviously…” 

“I’m pretty sure you’re female, I don’t think I see a beard..”

She was starting to get a little annoyed with me now.

“Okay, well, most of your stats and feats look pretty good, but we will need to make just a few minor adjustments.” She raises an eyebrow at me.

“Here under deity, you’ve chosen Moradin.” I look her in the eye. “I’m terribly sorry, but that is simply not acceptable.”

She sat shocked for a moment before replying. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well, see, I feel that spiritual background is incredibly important for any character, but especially a Cleric,” I explain. “I mean, you’re essentially channeling your chosen deity, so you really need to believe in whom you choose to channel. You need to live and breathe it.”

“Aye lass. Did you note the line on my application that said ‘DWARF’? It’s something of a… Dwarf thing. Moradin is our deity. He created us! That’s just how it’s done! You can’t go and dally about with the rules like that, it’s just… wrong!”

With a glare, I throw her application to the side. “There you go, with that Lawful Good thing again. Don’t you ever think for yourself? I’m sorry, but I can’t be represented by a lemming. Is that all you are? A sheep? If you truly feel that you should be aligned Lawful Good, and worship everything you’ve been merely socialized to believe all your life, then why are you, a female, even bothering to leave the hearth and home? Really, you should be barefoot and baking like a good Dwarven female. Adventures and campaigns are simply not the place for a pretty young thing like yourself. Maybe all that bright holy light has blinded you to the reality of your kind.”

She stares at me aghast, and sputters at the word “socialized”, managing to spill some of her ale down her bosom. 

“How racist of you! We Dwarves are not like that! It’s about loyalty to our ancestors and honoring our duties to family and fatherland and…”

“Blah blah blah. Or should I say bah bah bah, you silly sheep.”

She slams her mug down on the table now, sloshing the muddy liquid around the surface. She’s really getting pissed off now. But I can tell by the pinched look on her round face that she is desperate for this job. 

“Alright, fine then. I’m going to be a very un-dwarvenly Dwarf, I suppose. I have to follow some deity though; whom do YOU propose? Pelor would be acceptable.”

“Mmmmm…. No. I’m thinking Sehanine.”

“WHAT?”

“Yes, Sehanine will do nicely. Shiny moonbeams! Moonlit meditation! Spiritual awakenings through dreams! The whole world is a mystery, and you are at the forefront, deciphering and decoding the people and situations around you with elegance, grace, and subtle charisma! Striking at undead foes with the wrath of the moon! You will be the anti-hero of holy. Doing good, but choosing what is good by your own conscience, instead of having others tell you how you should think. Liberate yourself, Dwarf!” I'm quite proud of my wiki research.

She is sputtering, somewhere between tears of horror and rage. “You cannot ask this of me… I cannot abandon the faith of my home, of my people… it’s blasphemy, ‘aye, blasphemy… AN ELVEN GODDESS! You ask me to betray the faith of my ancestors, and then insult me by proposing a loony ELF-GOD as a replacement? Sehanine is duplicitous and tricky and… and…. passive-aggressive!”

I roll my eyes, but try to sooth her by speaking gently. “Hear me out. You are a Cleric of Sehanine, not Sehanine herself. She enjoys facades, and disguises, shadowed elements that are not easy for a novice to interpret. She imbues you with the ability to see through these mischievous stunts and pranks. You will be insightful (I picked it up as a skill!), perceptive, and understanding of others. You can pick up on subtle mood changes in any environment, and tell when people are attempting to deceive you. It does not mean you have to be deceptive yourself. 

“You will still be aligned good,” I continue passionately, “but you will follow the path of goodness no matter where it takes you – even if it means defying your clan. Kindness and goodness are above all earthly obligations. It’s the more challenging path to righteousness, don’t you see? You won’t prance about in leather underwear whispering to birds like an Elf, nor will you be chained to the often corrupt obligations of organized power.”

She appears to be warming to the idea, and sits quietly, considering it (and looking at me like I’m some kind of feminazi anarchist hippie), while I order us yet another round.

“How exactly am I supposed to have learned anything about Sehanine anyway? She’s not exactly well thought-of in Dwarven society, you know.”

“Oh, I’ve sorted all that out. Your parents were assassinated when you were a child, due to the leader of your clan suspecting them of being traitors because they had strong Elven ties. Your father was a great adventurer when he was young, and had friends amongst many races. He taught you to be quiet and perceptive about people, learn from different cultures, and follow your own conscience before judging whether they were enemies or not. They gave you insight into different societies, and were slaughtered by their own self-righteous clan leader for their kind openness. After you were orphaned, your father’s Elven allies adopted you, and raised you amongst them and their beliefs. So, while you are Dwarven by race, you have something of a dual citizenship. While you are still tenacious, like many of your people, you have an open kindness and warmth that attracts all different kinds of folk to you. So, you see, you are honoring the life and wishes of your family and ancestors, just as any good Dwarf should.”

“Wow. You’ve really thought this out, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, well, I spent days working on your background. I annoyed my fiancé for a week as I tried to make it work. I like Sehanine, and I like Dwarves.”

“I guess I can go with that. If you can make it work, and get the DM to accept it, I’ll play the part. Tell me though, why not just roll a bloody Elf?”

My face cringes with disgust. “Those pansies? No thanks. No sense of humor, cold to outsiders, and way, WAY too skinny.”

She snorts into her fourth mug of ale. “Well at least we’re in agreement there.”

“Hey, you like Elves, remember! Gotta play the part…”

“Aye, aye, I’ve got it. Ugly duckling with a sense of humor, etcetera, etcetera,” she mutters. “Still don’t know why you so desperately wanted a Dwarf though.”

I grin widely at her. “Because you can drink everyone else under the table.”

With a guffaw, she ends her interview with an “I’ll drink to that! Cheers!”


- Elimeny (ee-LIM-ih-nee) with help from Helja Huffinuff (hellya!)

I thought I came prepared.

I had spent hours on my character, trying to perfect her. I made several, attempting to create the perfect cleric, with the ideal background. I had my questions written in a notepad, like the good little student, for my GM. Of course, when I asked him these questions, he did seem slightly bewildered that I had obsessed over so many little details, but what can I say? I’m type A all the way baby. I only barely resisted the urge to make a spreadsheet, mind you.

And then, I picked up the pencil on the table and started writing things on my character sheet.

“Oh, you can’t use that pencil. It’s Jack’s pencil.”

“… What?”

“That pencil – it’s Jack’s.”

“Kurtis, it’s a fucking pencil.”

“Well, that may be, but it’s Jack’s fucking pencil.”

So, this explains where all my nice mechanical pencils went when the guys were gaming over at our house. I see how it is. So the next gaming night, I brought a package of 20 number 2 pencils and a battery operated pencil sharpener. I then proceeded to spend the entire night sharpening those pencils, trying to be as annoyingly loud as Dwarvenly possible.

Dear Jack, DON’T TOUCH MY FUCKING PENCILS.

The next night we gamed, I was late, and ended up sitting in Jack’s normal seat. All of Jack’s gaming paraphernalia were carefully arranged around me where he had left them the week before. I was terrified I might nudge something out of place. Apparently, you just don’t screw around with a gamer’s tools. I’m learning the hard way that the boys are possessive of their toys, and people who are willing to share are quickly eyed suspiciously, and then even more quickly ransacked for all they are worth. Jack indirectly introduced me to this rule, but I have a sneaking suspicion he is not alone.

This is all I have to say: My pencils better all be there next week. I’m going to count them.

-elimeny