The World of Myth Magazine

I have chosen Forgotten Realms for my Dungeons & Dragons campaign, not because it's my favorite of all the published D&D settings, (it's not) nor is it a world I wish to explore with my players, (I don't) I chose it simply because it's a popular brand name- like Monopoly. Having a campaign setting with its own Wikipedia site is a blessing, especially when I'm a family man, with a full-time job, who has limited time to prep an adventure for a game session.

In my campaign, my eleven-year-old son, Dan, will be playing Aragorn the orc, while my nine-year-old daughter, Mandy, will be playing Selena the elf. Wait-what? Orcs and elves don't adventure together. They hate each other; will kill each other on sight. Don't believe me? Just ask the orc god Gruumsh how he lost his left eye. The bloodshed between a tusk-face and pointy ears is D&D canon, and you never, ever mess with canon, not unless you want your campaign to implode, or a Rules Lawyer's head to explode.

Why would two enemies choose to adventure together? As the Dungeon Master, I had to figure this out. I decided to go with the obvious: as babies, Aragorn and Selena were misplaced by their parents, then discovered by humans and raised in a human village.

Aragorn and Selena call Settex village their home. The village is one of dozens that grows wheat in the Goldenfields Kingdom. Mogda, the chieftain of Settex, is the adoptive father of a baby orc and baby elf. I guess you could say he is the D&D version of Ma and Pa Kent from Smallville.

I'm pleased with this background for the player characters- despite it being hazy and lazy. It's so much more than just an uneasy alliance between two enemies. It is the impossible- a game changer: an orc and an elf raised by the same adoptive father. But I wonder, what will become of Aragorn and Selena when they venture out into the wider world? What will happen when they meet someone of their own race? Will they decide to live with their own kind? Renounce their human upbringing and adopt the racial hatred of their people? Are brother and sister destined to destroy each other? Oh-my, such tragedy, reminding me of that Disney animated movie: The Fox & the Hound. Yes, that movie which begins with a fox cub and a hound pup frolicking through the meadow together, and ends with the same fox and hound, now adults, growling and gnashing their canine teeth at one another; a hunter with a hunting rifle, shots fired; an entire generation of children traumatized.

We begin our first game session, Dan and Mandy sitting across from me at the dining table, their character sheets and dice in front of them. I'm so excited; my kids are even more excited. My only complaint would be the absurdly low hit points (6hp and 3hp, LOL) for Dan and Mandy's level one characters. A wooden bar stool has more hit points than a level one character in the world of D&D.

To prevent a Total Party Kill, I've decided to restrict fighting to one combat encounter a day within the game. The first encounter will be a Dire Fox that has sneaked into Settex to raid the chicken coup. Dan and Mandy's characters brandish their wooden clubs against this bushy tailed menace, their leather armor creaking as they spread their feet in a fighting stance- pardon? Why haven't the players equipped their characters with swords and metal armor? Because, Settex only has one blacksmith whose skills in forging iron is limited to horse shoes and scythe blades.

"What's a Dire Fox?" asks Dan.

"It's still a fox. Dire just means bigger than a normal fox."

"Oh…cool. Can I kill it?"

"Sure, you can, but you'll have to make an attack roll first. Use the d20…no, that's a d12…yep, that's the one."

Dan picks up the twenty-sided dice, gives it a shake.

Aragorn's war cry is as frightening as the tusks curving up out of his mouth. His biceps flex as he raises his club to deliver-

"I cast sleep spell at the fox," shouts Mandy.

Selena chants a spell, magic ensnaring the Dire Fox's mind, dragging it deeper and deeper into an enchanted sleep. Nighty night Mr. Fox. Sweet dreams.

Damn, I forgot about Selena's one and only spell. Sleep is a potent first level spell, as no saving throw is allowed against it. Oh well…

Another day in the campaign world, another threat swoops into the village. This time on leathery bat wings. A flock of stirges dive-bomb the cattle in the paddock, attaching themselves to the cows. They fill their empty tummies with cow blood pumped up through their proboscis.

Dan shakes the twenty-sided dice in his hand, hoping to shake out a high number.

Aragorn leaps over the paddock fence, charges at the blood sucking parasites.

"Sleep spell."

All the stirges drop off the cows, their proboscis quivering as they snore in their sleep.

"Dad," moans Dan, throwing the d20 dice across the table. He shoots me a WTF expression.

Oh c'mon. This is a disgrace. I've been playing D&D for over thirty years and I'm being outsmarted by a nine-year-old playing her first game. I should know better. A level one elf is no different to a level one magic-user: they're both just a one-trick pony with only one spell.

"Sleep spell."

"DAD!"

Oh no, another day in the campaign world, another round of combat easily defeated by Mandy and her character's elf magic. This time it's a giant weasel that was caught eating piglets out of the pig pen.

My campaign, it's burst into flames. It's falling. It's crashing. It's crashing terrible. This is one of the worst catastrophes in the world. Oh the humanity.

I can't deal with this. I end the game. I call it a night.

My kids have had a blast. They can't wait to play again.

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