October 12, 2011

Everything in my campaigns turns into a dick joke.

The Dungeoneering Dad preps for his C&C session.
I don't know what it is, but every campaign I GM involves a metric ton of Freudian slips. These, of course, spill over into nonstop snickering by my players and, hell, myself.  The dialogue at my game table sounds like it came out of a Kevin Smith movie. I am fine as hell with that and die laughing just about every game session. (I love me some Randal. "I'm a firm believer in a ruling class. Especially since I rule." Sounds like a good DM motto to me.)

In my previous Rappan Athuk campaign, every map I drew on my white board had at least one phallic appendage.

Here are but two examples from last Friday's session of my Castles & Crusades Wilderlands hex crawl:
  • What it was: A huge obelisk with a pulsing, red tip.  Why it was that way: I was describing how something labeled the "Dawn Obelisk" on James Mishler's awesome Southern Reaches map glowed red when the dawn sun hit it. What my players got out of it: A big, red-tipped cock standing erect in the desert.
  • What it was:  A inn named the "Shrieking Queen."  Why it was that way:  I used Zak's great Vornheim book to generate much of the town of Sacred Rock and randomly rolled up that name. At the time, I thought it was a great name for a bawdy, rough and tumble inn.  What my players got out of it: It was faaaaaaaaaaaaaabulous!
This has potential to be a regular post topic here, so stayed tuned until next time.

The players react to my description of the Dawn Obelisk.

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