Happy anniversary, Dungeons & Dragons!

Long Live the Legend

In the News: "Chaotic Evil Charisma"

In the Footsteps of the Ravager of Heavens

My Gamemaster's Card

Kind of like a baseball card, detailing a player's career stats to-date. Except these detail my time as a gamemaster/Dungeon Master. My totals are AT LEAST as follows (complete with its own set of obnoxiously oblique stat acronyms):

S 234
H 1,433*

Avg 6.12

Pre 1,926
PR 63

M:F 17:4
WCF 2
CharS 100
CharK 10
TPKs 1 (5)
KR 10:100 (10%)
YA 26 (1996-2003; '05-'11; '13-'15; '17-'21; '23-)
DA 932
CamS 12
CamC 9
CamCR .750
SysR 11
SetR 9
HPD ~3.6 hr/day
* Includes four 4-hr "professional" sessions at GenCon 2019.

Index
S: Sessions
H: Hours

Avg: Average Session Length (in hours)

Pre: Hours spent prepping
PR: Players Recruited

M:F: Male to female ratio (of players recruited)
WCF: Wedded Couples Formed (confirmed only)
CharS: Player Characters Started
CharK: Player Characters Killed
TPKs: Total Party Kills (# of dead characters)
KR: Player Character Kill Ratio (Killed:Started; chance of death)
YA: Years Active (excluding years when no sessions were completed)
DA: Days Active (spent preparing or playing)
CamS: Campaigns Started
CamC: Campaigns Completed
CamRoC: Campaign Completion Rate
SysR: Systems Run (Palladium, AD&D 2e, West End Games' Mastersystem & D6, D&D 3e/3.xe, Shadowrun 2e/3e, Star Wars d20/RCR/SAGA, Pathfinder 1e, D&D 5e, d20 Modern)
SetR: Settings Run (TMNT, homebrew, World of Indiana Jones, DragonLance, Ravenloft, Forgotten Realms, Shadowrun, Star Wars, Pure Steam)
HPD: Hours Per Day (hours + prep / days active)

Last Updated: 8/7/25

A Gen Con Virgin No More

And so it stretched. At times the full length of the convention center in Indianapolis, and right out the doors! For me though, this is where it begins, not where it ends. My first outing to Gen Con, an event for which the Pure Steam Dev Team has been playing since 2013. It did not disappoint. But why did I not have to stand in line, I hear you ask…

This is why! I worked the con. 20+ hours, to be exact. Gamemaster, son. Been gamin' and masterin' since the summer of '95. Upwards of 25 years under my belt. And I can roleplay you, your grandma, and your next door neighbor under the table, any diggidy-dang day of the week.

Ok, check. So, dungeons? Who's got the dungeons?

Oh Batman, when are you NOT present where geeks gather? Riddle me that!

Fleets of tables sporting CCGs were on display.

Some with incredible meters-wide displays themselves, catering to everything from the nostalgia-hungry manchild, to the anime-maniac, to the casual player, to the grognard, young and old!

Star Wars nerds were definitely full in force, packing impressive tabletop war-gaming sets.

Most impressive.

And here's what we hoped would most impress: our very own in-house RPG product, the Pure Steam Campaign Setting (now with that new 5th Edition scent)! 

This year's con also reintroduced me to Warhammer 40k… 

…courtesy of those who actually knew how to play, and took no small amount of pleasure in placing us n00bs out in front of the action like so many hapless pawns!

A view of the battlefield from our perspective.

And one from theirs.

Here's where the battle turned, though: when Adam C., our project lead, plopped his space marines in by drop pod and proceeded to cue his victory music! (I guess even the boss is allowed to have some fun, too!)

The highlight for me, though, had to be the 20+ hours of Pure Steam RPG sessions that I hosted (in a Doc Holiday as played by Val Kilmer voice) over 3 days. Above, you can see my table in medias res. 

We even had our multi-award winning cosplayer, Chris, stop by with his newest self-made look. (I'm just sorry I couldn't get a better shot of him as I was in the midst of a session!)

And it's safe to say I made some fast friends and fans on my first gig. "Your table was the highlight of the con for me," the fan, pictured above in a cap and his arm over my shoulder at center, said. Other team members pictured from left to right: Adam C., Chris, Benton, Adam S., Bryan, Paul, and Brennan. Let's do it again, guys!

My #1 fan even brought his freshly purchased product of ours to be signed by the whole team. Now there's a collector's item! Congrats, my man, and all the best to you in the future!

Two entertainers I admire playing a game we love. Pure pleasure.

Hudson of Hillsfar

I dug up the backstory-and-then-some I wrote for the first D&D character I ever played (redressed to read for current editions of the game). Decent read, if I do say so myself.

Born on a brisk morning in early spring to Dharnel Orellian and his wife Matlin, their fat-cheeked, round-eyed babe named Hudson lived a contented life, full of mother’s milk and father’s affection. Kidnapped at twelve months, before the babe’s first birthday, it was a life that, sadly, would carry no memories with it.

From there the babe traveled north, together with a dozen other young children, in the company of an enigmatic vagrant known only to a select few as The Raggedy Man. How it was that the despicable wretch was able to travel north, into inhospitable weather no less, without losing a single child nor giving himself away from all the crying and the dirty breechcloths, is a secret only he knows. Up the Moonsea Ride to the coast itself, arriving in Hillsfar was their goal—a place where the children would be bought and sold into slavery, but not just any kind of slavery.

In Hillsfar at this time (and still today) there stood a structure called “the Arena,” a walled edifice set in a wide oval shape and able to easily seat thousands at a time. Inside this space men and women died. Sometimes painfully. Sometimes quickly. But nevertheless constantly. And when someone died inside the Arena’s walls, it was never a death that anyone could foresee for them, unless one was a select member of the audience.

It was here that Hudson was taken. Not to die, no, but to live, as a gladiator, fighting in the macabre games of death to please the audience and win the favor of the Arena’s masters. But whoever had purchased Hudson and his “brood” would not see their investment go to waste. Hudson and the others were to be trained, or rather bred, from an early age to learn how to fight or else learn how to die. First came lessons in silence, long nights alone in a cell; then lessons in pain, first by the staff, then by the spear, and then by the sword; only to be followed by more lessons in pain, others’ pain … others’ blood. Hudson took it all in comparable stride, never overeager, but never dull nor slow of wit. Soon—years later in fact—time would come for him to be tested and value assigned his name.

At age 7, Hudson would meet the cunning and sadistic “Sleetbomb.” This first meeting would prove to the arenamasters which gladiator candidates would be able to hold their bodily functions in check while merely in the presence of the many-scarred and foul-smelling champion, and which would be fed to the ogre for their incontinence. Small wonder Sleetbomb enjoyed himself. By age 11, Hudson had “met” Sleetbomb again (though never actually seen him), this time to engage in a game of cat-and-mouse wherein the youngsters were herded into a pitch-black cavern and instructed to reach the exit on the far side, all while avoiding Sleetbomb who stalked the middle ground. Oft times other participants would push an unsuspecting victim out ahead of them in the dark, willing to sacrifice another to Sleetbomb and ensure their own safety. They would play this game many times over the ensuing months, a game which Hudson grew to become quite adept at, his large size forcing other participants to select smaller victims instead as the sacrifice. Then, 10 years after their first meeting, Hudson would meet Sleetbomb for the last time. It was during this final meeting, wherein the gladiators-to-be were instructed to stand their ground and receive open hand blows from Sleetbomb until none more could be taken, that Hudson took for himself his gladiator surname, “Three Blows.” In truth, it was an unostentatious title, together matching Hudson’s love for the sport, which was minimal to say the least. For as it was measured, “one blow” was a truly dismal grade, and two only a step above that, with three being “average,” and four, or in the rare case five blows, being the pinnacle of gladiator stardom.

And so Hudson’s career as a gladiator began. There were many a group fights, and savage fights, and one-on-one fights (usually to determine a criminal’s guilt or innocence), even water fights (through which Hudson learned how to swim), but none of it thrilled him. It was a job to him. A lazy pastime, really. Nothing special. The cuts and bruises healed like any other, and more often than not gladiators who were most highly regarded (the “Five Blows” variety) participated in the most gruesome matches. The average gladiators, like Hudson, simply held their own, some because that was all they could do, and others, like Hudson perhaps, because they knew better.

Years lapsed like the wheels of cart hoeing a row in the same old road, again and again. And it was not long after Hudson’s twenty-fifth year that he found himself carted off in a caged wagon, not unlike a load of livestock, ready for market. He was going south to Westgate and to new fighting grounds where his northern-honed skills would fetch a greater price (or so his masters hoped, lest they decide to throw him and others the arenamasters had grown tired with “to the dogs” in a final high price match to the death). It seemed Hudson “Three Blows’” abiding ways had come back to bite him. But it was not to be.

As the slave wagons turned east past the Standing Stone to delve into the trade lands of Sembia, a great clamor went up as raiders sacked the caravan. At first, an errant arrow or two knocked into the wood frame of Hudson’s cage, then a frantic melee of shadows erupted around him, during which a stranger approached and bashed the lock of his cage. Why the stranger had done so—either to warrant Hudson’s help in the brewing fight, or else out of the kindness of his heart—is unknown, but what is known is that Hudson took the opportunity given him. Not long having pondered what he would do in the face of freedom, Hudson ran, leaving the combatants to their fate and retreating to the Standing Stone. From there three choices confronted him. One, go back down the road behind him, joining the fight or else fleeing around it. Two, go north, back to Hillsfar and the only world he’d ever known. Or three, turn west and away from it all. The choice was simple.

The first night alone, Hudson thought he had chosen wrong, sleeping on twigs in the cold with nothing to protect him. But, as the days wore on, he slowly grew to discover that this time alone was not unlike the years he had spent growing up in the Arena, surrounded as he had been by his “brothers and sisters.” Eating crops from farmers’ fields, begging on the roads, and getting into scrapes with local brigands he met along the way occupied his days. He even found an old rusty greatsword (not unlike the color of his full beard) among discarded tools in a fallen shed he passed that first ride out. The few ruffians he slew with its edge were the only human kills Hudson never felt sorry for (ironically, he took these unfortunate men as “roustabouts” whom he thought had been sent to recapture him). After while, Hudson began to catch the eye of interested locals who were wary of his impressive size and would employ him to simply sit or stand outside their establishment as a deterrent to would-be miscreants. He didn’t mind.

Other adventures proceeded thereafter. A mage sponsored hunt for a dragon’s tooth; rolling boulders down on the heads of giantkin; and scrambling on hands and knees inside the tunnel-ridden burrows of kobold holds. He even once sailed across the vastness of the Dragonmere and single-handedly defeated a flesh golem in the home of a “nefarious” wizard. But none of these things removed the memories of the Arena and his first life as a gladiator. So far had he come from those times, and yet still Hudson of Hillsfar he remained, not wanting to go back, but not able to forget.

Recently, in his adopted home of Arabel again, he’s begun to hear stories of mysterious kidnappings: babies and children gone missing without a trace. Though he does not see himself as a charity worker, deep down Hudson knows these things are wrong and would see them ended if he could. (Unknown to him is that his mother and The Raggedy Man still live to this day. His mother, Matlin, is in her 70s now, having bore Hudson, her only son, late in life during her early forties; his father, Dharnel, died of heartstop while in desperate search for Hudson shortly after he went missing. Hudson’s father had served with Azoun IV during several rides to quell the frontier in the Stonelands. As for The Raggedy Man, his whereabouts are always changing, and his methods and aims have not wavered from those he used decades ago.)

A Geek's Pledge

I pledge allegiance to Faerûn of the entire globe of Abeir-Toril, and to the Realms for which it's named, one world under Ao—cast invisible!—with Elminster and "Driz-zit" for all! 

"What Mine Hands Hath Done"

Two forays of whipjacks hath I sent
To yonder vale, a borrowing bent.
The younger one was really rather terse,
A thumb depressed, upon the vein, a purse.
When the other did implore his name:
Behold! Stay! A cry! There is no shame.
When roustabouts did thus make move for more
They raped the pretty dandy score for score.
Wrought with ire—breasts-a-fire!—and all in vain,
A stroking hand, 'twould pleasure her again.

-L. James Wright © 2005

Forgotten Realms Begins

Guess what? D&D is cool now!

Genki meet Drizzt.

We've been hosting a Japanese college student named Genki Kingetsu these past two weeks. His name translates into something like, "Happy Goldmoon." Forgoing a viewing of the classic Adam Sandler film, I instead recognized how similar the English version of his name was to certain ones found in fantasy literature and gaming. Thus, I decided to introduce our Eastern guest to Western-style tabletop gaming through the vehicle of Drizzt Do'Urden and his adventures.

Genki chose his character first, opting for "Wulfgar" with the low AC/high HP. Yume suitably went with her typical choice: "Catti-Brie," the long-range threat. I rolled the dice and wound up with "Bruenor," the ax-wielding, shield-bearing king of Mithral Hall. Together, we sought the ruins of that fabled dwarven keep, and the early goings would betray the danger therein as we quickly faced off against a troll, an ogre, and a pesky trap that sent out pulses of harmful force energy repelling us away from its location.

Our next couple of turns featured a battle between good fortune and bad. Catti-brie was successful in downing the ogre, it too wounded by the force trap that had sent me flying, but ran into a goblin cutter. Wulfgar came into play and discovered the "Secret Cave," a place where we could avoid some of the dangers of the Underdark, but first we'd have to unseat its then resident, a massive owlbear! Another trap, this one a goblin snare, sprang on us, but despite these developments the giant troll was fortunately held at bay by the cavern's topography. (Granted, the rules don't state that large-sized minis can't squeeze through narrow passages, playing it this way seems to make more sense.)

We took out the mobile threats and moved out of range of the trap-laden entrance but soon ran afoul a goblin archer and hard-carapaced umber hulk. Much to our chagrin, Catti-Brie began to miss targets left and right, thanks to Yume's luckless die rolling, leaving much of the fighting to Wulfgar and I.

Having dealt with the goblin, I raced passed my adopted daughter and her former lover and swept through the broken door of ancient Mithral Hall. We had found it! It, and another feral troll being kept on a long-leash by a drow house guard. Back toward the entrance, Artemis Entreri, the famed assassin (and this adventure's boss villain), had entered the caverns, seeking us out! If we could but seize the crown lying on the throne and defeat the assassin, we would win the day!

Artemis quickly caught up to us and we began to fight him off, but not before the fearsome troll sent me reeling across the map and unconscious on the stone floor. Complicating matters, a third trap, "The Juicer," spawned on Wulfgar's tile, bringing him dangerously close to dropping as well. A single attack from Artemis a moment later, and he finally did.

Fearing that victory was slipping away, and with no more "Healing Surge" tokens, the speedy Wulfgar broke free from the fray to get the crown, but was brought low by the combined threats of the troll and yet another trap, this one firing poison arrows. Catti-brie and I continued the desperate fight against Artemis, but saw our doom in the coming of a drow priestess who spawned at the entrance after drawing an "Encounter card" we could not ignore.

And that's where we failed, unable to get to Wulfgar in time to revive him; a powerful and unforgiving example of how this game can tease you with victory, then steal it away from you in merciless fashion. Hope you enjoyed your introduction, Genki! (Can't wait to play again!)

A close-up on the "Owlbear," from the Blood of Gruumsh expansion.

And the "Umber Hulk," from Sting of Lolth.

Beating the heat … WITH GAMES!

Tsuro markers at their start positions! (I'm brown, Jeff's blue, Mom's white, and Yume's black.)

Everyone got off to a fancy start (much better than the practice round previous), with Jeff and I positioning for the corner, leaving the ladies to scramble for higher ground.

Unable to cut me off at the pass (or having chose not to), Jeff veered north placing his fate squarely in the hands of mi madre.

Neatly avoiding the fray, Mom left Yume with little choice but to run smack into Jeff, eliminating them both.

Which quite naturally set me up for the win. Gracias!

Next, we took a shot at the "Passage to Dawn" adventure in The Legend of Drizzt, a scenario which had defeated us months ago. Jeff took on the role of stalwart dwarven fighter "Bruenor," Yume once again became the human archer "Catti-Brie," and I gladly gripped the twin scimitars of the titular drow ranger "Drizzt Do'Urden." We took down the massive balor rather handily this time, using teamwork, character abilities, and no shortage of valuable resources to slay the demon and free the captive Wulfgar without expending a single "Healing Surge" token!

Here's a closer look at the final game state. Bruenor and I bore through the demon as Catti-Brie held back and plucked with her arrows. Not even the sudden springing of a poison arrow trap—after the demon was down!—could deter us from breaking the crystal prison and achieving total victory.

And here's a close up of two of the nasties we had to face down en route to victory: the "Drow Blademaster" from the  Sting of Lolth expansion set, and the "Ogre" from Blood of Gruumsh.

RioCon, Day 2

Here is a recap and the results of day two's action at RioCon:

Day two kicked off with a round of Tsuro: The Game of the Path, with Jessie playing yellow, Yume white, Trevor blue, and me as brown.

Tsuro is a tile-based pattern recognition game with a simple but elegant style. The objective is to remain moving about the board without "falling" or being driven off the edge or running into other pieces. I love its Asian art design and the strategies needed to win remind me of a more organic version of chess.

Early on, I was trying to dictate Jess's moves in hopes that I could run her off the board; Trevor played a conservative game of staying close to the edge; and Yume was content to work herself into a corner.

Ultimately, Jess evaded me and I was lucky enough to find a route across the board and make use of 180º whirls in the paths (i.e. built in roadblocks) to prevent pursuit. Trev reversed his course to eat up more real estate, but was suddenly confronted with both Yume and Jess who had followed him.

Here's how it stood after seven rounds of play: Jess (yellow) had cut back north, Yume (white) had placed herself in Trevor's (blue) hands (center-right), and I was safely secluded away in the western half, biding time.

A round later, Trevor had sent Yume on a spiraling course back to the corner she had tried to escape from.

Later that turn, Yume was the first to be eliminated…

…followed by Jessie, and then Trevor, who you see here at the moment of his going off the board. Brilliant fun!

The gaming gods were with me that day, for later Dad (red), Jessie (blue), Trevor (green), and I (black) gathered round for some Lords of Waterdeep, and we finished from last to first in the same order. Dad played as "Mirt the Moneylender," a familiar name for any Forgotten Realms fan, finishing with 122 points; Jess as "Danilo Thann," another well-known name, had 128; Trevor as the halfling turned doppelganger "Nindil Jalbuck," had 138; and I played as "Larissa Neathal," the affable socialite who garners her victory points according to the number of buildings under her control by the end of the game, taking high score with 141. Playing a Lord (and there are seventeen, including those from the expansion, each with their own set of win conditions) is a different experience every time, and even if you play as the same Lord, the gameplay is so varied and volatile that you never play the exact same game twice.

RioCon, Day 1

Due to a couple back-to-back weddings from June 7-14, much of my family (including Trevor from down in L.A., and Jess up from Arizona) has been in town, so I deemed it necessary for us to game-it-up during the interim. Here's a recap of the day one action at "RioCon" (© 2014):

Trev, Yume, and I took on the "Legacy of the Drow" adventure scenario for The Legend of Drizzt game. Trev played Wulfgar (the barbarian), Yume Catti-Brie (the archer; as per usual), and I was Regis (the rogue). In the early going, we encountered a number of orc-related monsters from the Dungeon Command "Blood of Gruumsh" expansion. Here, we're in the midst of defeating a war boar and a fearsome orc Cleric of Gruumsh wielding a long spear.

At the penultimate moment, Methil the mind flayer arrived, bringing with him a goblin cutter, hunting drake, orc drudge, and a copper dragon! Even though we had both our healing surges still, sh¡t was about to get real.

In short order, we managed to bring the mind flayer down to less than 5 hp, but both Catti-Brie and Wulfgar were dropped in the doing. This meant we couldn't afford any more mishaps. Then, right as the mind flayer summoned in an orc druid to help, Wulfgar landed the killing blow with Aegis-fang. We had won!

A selection of the monsters we faced from the Blood of Gruumsh expansion (from left to right): orc drudge, Cleric of Gruumsh, orc archer (back), orc chieftain (front), orc druid, war boar.

I don't mind being dealt a card again at the holidays.

Yume flexed her engineering muscles by correctly fitting together Charles and Ray Eames specially designed House of Cards. I offered a few suggestions, but she did all the painstaking work. Took her 3-4 hours over 3 days.

When Trevor arrived for a visit recently, he, Dad, and I threw down as lords of Waterdeep, using both the Undermountain and Skullport add-ons from the expansion. Corruption and the advanced quests and locations offered in this long version of the game really changes how you play. Replay value is immense, and the full game offers a lot to consider and puzzle over. We took a break part way through this playthru, and it was hard for me to tear myself away from the board, thinking about my next move. Dad (Durnan the Wanderer) scored 148, Trevor (as Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun) finished with 154, and I (Sammereza Sulphontis) narrowly won with 157 victory points. 

Next, Trev, Yume, and I manufactured a team win playing the "Escape from Neverneath" scenario in The Legend of Drizzt. The penultimate moment came when we were attacked by twin trolls, one of which dropped Jarlaxle (played by Trevor), and nearly killed Athrogate (played by me). We were lucky to find the exit tile when we did, and even luckier that we drew a stalagmite (i.e. no monster) card during the final stretch.

All of us then enjoyed a playthru of Betrayal at House on the Hill. I played "Madame Zostra," Dad was "Professor Longfellow," Yume started as "Missy Dubourde" and Trevor as "Darren 'Flash' Williams," but they switched when the haunt was revealed. 

Ultimately, the horrific rigors of the house made Missy become a werewolf, soon to be followed by Darren (who was attacked first) and the Prof. Earlier, the Prof and I had discovered a revolver, but soon I was the only one left to desperately search for silver bullets. Sadly, just as I found them, Missy and her brood arrived and slew me. The haunts of the house had won this time.