Music & Menace at the Red Roc Inn

(A big batch of miniatures for D&D that I Kickstarted back in 2020 finally showed up this week, making me very happy. It is a great assortment of common monsters and a nice variety of player character models too. One of them I had only known by a piece of artwork prior to opening the box, but I remember looking at it and thinking, man, I hope the sculpt carries some of the attitude from that drawing - that is a pose that kind of tells a story to me...)

Beliza swung the heavy wooden mallet with a grunt. A short, sharp spray made her flinch a little, and a quick twist of the tap assured her that it was properly seated. She reached her hand back behind and felt the handle of a sturdy wooden mug pressed into her hand. 

Twisting the tap again, she watched the golden stream of rich, brown ale flow into the mug, but scowled as she saw the foam was rising too quickly. 

"Who's this one for now?" she asked over her shoulder as she flung the mug's contents into the slop barrel beneath the bar.

"The tall musician," her server Amna replied. "Says he needs to recover his voice."

The innkeeper snorted. "I've 'eard him sing - 'e'll need more than ale." Beliza finished filling the mug and handed it to the younger woman, then reached up to scratch an itch under her eyepatch. "If 'e 'ad any sense, he'd give it to that lass 'e's chattin' up so she doesn't notice how homely he is."

Amna laughed as she turned to look at the tall stranger who had asked if he could sing for his supper. "Oh, I dunno," she mused, "He's got an odd sort of charm, don't you think?"

Beliza wiped her hands on her greasy apron and looked across the crowded tavern floor. "One of 'is parents is definitely an orc so 'is complexion's nothing to write home about, but 'e keeps 'is 'air tidy and 'as no scars-" and she turned and gave Amna a wink with her one good eye- "none I can see, anyways."

The server mockingly covered her mouth in a scandalized fashion, but Beliza noticed she blushed a little at the same time. "And 'e's tall, I'll grant you that, and the sooner you get 'im that beer the sooner 'e can get back to singin'..."

Amna nodded and took the beer over to the tall stranger in the long coat, his instrument now slung over his shoulder so he could use both hands to talk expansively with a woman wearing a dress and jewelry that really had no business in a place like the Red Roc.

A slummer, Amna thought to herself dismissively. She gently slid her free hand down the minstrel's left arm to get his attention and as he turned, pressed the mug into his other hand and leaned into him as she purred, "your drink, sir."

The stranger's rough features softened significantly when he smiled, but there was no concealing the tusks that stuck out nearly an inch over his upper lip when he did so. "Thank you my dear," he said warmly, "But I am no knight - just one who appreciates their tales of bravery and shares their devotion to beauty."

Amna felt her cheeks reddening and her mind raced through a catalogue of practiced responses, as the half-orc raised the mug to his lips. But before she could formulate the perfect rejoinder and before the entertainer could even take a sip, she heard a rough voice from behind her bark in obnoxious laughter.

"You have got to be joking," the voice growled. Sensing trouble, the nearest patrons took a couple of steps back, revealing a grizzled dwarf in a studded leather jerkin, with axe handles protruding over his shoulders, standing with his hands on his hips. The stranger looked at the dwarf and took a sip of his beer while maintaining eye contact with the belligerent.

"I mean, I thought it was a great trick and all, a hork pretending he could sing and such," the dwarf crowed, prompting a nervous tittering from some of those who had paused their own conversations to see what came of this tense interaction. "And my guess is that's an enchanted mandolin since those green meathooks comin' out of your sleeves couldn't possibly pluck those wee strings."

The half-orc gestured with his mug at the dwarf and said, "I am going to have to insist that you stand up when addressing me." A series of gasps and a choked chuckle could be heard as the dwarf's face reddened. "And I would prefer it if you found a less offensive term to describe my heritage."

"Heritage? Heritage?" the dwarf sputtered. "That's rich! Did your parents even know each other? Or did you just wake up on a rock next to some afterbirth?"

The stranger's nostril's flared and his lip started to curl in an involuntary snarl, but Amna saw him somehow transform it into a derisive sneer. "I knew my parent's pretty well, honestly." A malicious grin, then, "I mean, not as intimately as I knew yours, but..."

This drew hoots and laughter from the crowd as the dwarf's eyes widened in shock and anger. "That tears it!" he shouted, ripping the twin axes from his back and dropping into a fighting stance. "When I saw you talkin' up my boss's wife, I was going to embarrass you a bit before giving you a beatin'. But now you've smart-mouthed yourself straight into the choppery, hork!"

The sneer disappeared from the stranger's face, replaced by a cold, fatalistic expression that the dwarf was surprised to see had no trace of fear in it. The half-orc's right hand reached across his waist and slowly drew a long, sharp falchion from its well-oiled scabbard, and with the tip of the blade dipping languidly before him, he took a purposeful stride toward the dwarf, the mug of beer still clutched in his other hand. 

Somehow Amna, found her voice, and asked, "Did - would you like me to hold your drink for you?"

With no change in his expression, the minstrel shook his head and took a swig of ale before stepping still closer towards the now uncertain dwarf. "No need," he said tersely, "This won't take long."

UPDATE: Months after this a friend rolled up a half-orc bard for our monthly in-person campaign at Polyrhythm Brewing so I had the motivation needed to (hurriedly) paint him up!

Yorrick Grondson

...and his instrument(s)

GreeD&D and the Bottomest Line

Roleplaying games like Dungeons & Dragons have been a part of my life, on and off, since I was about 12. Like most players, I have played with multiple versions of the rules as well as completely different rulesets for different games in different settings, like Top Secret, Spirit of 77 and most recently, Call of Cthulhu.

The financial status of the multiple owners of the fabled D&D trademark has likewise waxed and waned over the nearly five decades it has been around. It was an initial success and flagship for a tiny company called TSR, who eventually sold everything to Wizards of the Coast after nearly bankrupting themselves in the late '90s. Two years later, in 1999, WOTC itself was bought by major toy and game company Hasbro. 

In 2008, Hasbro-owned WOTC released its 4th edition of the D&D rules, which, although it was a real departure in many ways from previous editions and rankled many fans, did give the game quite a bit of exposure to new audiences. Wizards did extensive playtesting for its follow-up 5th edition, published in 2014.

5E is a robust ruleset to be sure, and quite a bit of fun to play, and as a result of this and the added exposure of popular live-play shows like Critical Role (and its animated spin-off Legend of Vox Machina) on YouTube and Twitch, D&D has never been more popular. Playtesting has only recently begun for the 6th edition anticipated in 2024 (to coincide with D&D's 50th anniversary).

Even prior to the pandemic, the business side was looking solid; D&D was showing growth for its seventh consecutive year, while sister-product Magic the Gathering grew almost 30%. During the pandemic, online play of D&D increased by an estimated 86% - surely the sign of a healthy brand.

And yet, this level of sustainability and growth is not enough for some people.

New Wizards & Digital CEO (the Hasbro division that controls D&D) Cynthia Williams recently described D&D as severely "under-monetized" and lacking in the kind of  "recurrent spending" seen in video games.

And I suppose she's right; even the person running the game (called a Dungeon Master or DM) only needs 2-3 books and a set of dice to play for hours and hours if they want to make up their own adventures, and a published campaign like Tyranny of Dragons costs $50-$70 and kept eight of us online playing pretty regularly for two years.

It is a bit surprising to see a games company like Hasbro bemoaning slow growth and monetization; after all, classic boardgames like Risk and Monopoly only require one person to buy a copy for less than $50 and 4-6 players can enjoy it forever!

And a lot of D&D's cultural cachet in recent years has come from their willingness to play nicely in the sandbox with the gaming community and smaller publishers making approved content for 5E using something called the Open Gaming License, or OGL. But now a leaked copy of a new "1.1 version" of the OGL gives far more rights (and for the first time, royalties) to WOTC, and many publishers have expressed reluctance to make D&D-compatible adventures and sourcebooks if it turns out to be accurate. Still others are threatening legal action, as the new arrangement could fundamentally threaten their very livelihoods and viability as businesses.

And while many players and DMs are suggesting they too might take their polyhedral dice and play elsewhere in order to support the smaller publishers, more of them are concerned about the possibility that D&D, a game that should only require paper, pencils and dice in order to play, could in the future require an account or subscription or some digital component in order to play. Hasbro recently purchased the website D&D Beyond, an online "toolset" which features character generators, game rules and information, as well as online play experiences similar to competitors like Roll20 and Fantasy Ground. Could those online games be put at risk or shut out of future releases as well?

It's entirely too early to say with any certainty where all these changes might lead, especially the OGL - it was a leak, so it is entirely possible that they can walk it back. But with more players than ever before, a level of awareness frankly unimaginable even a decade ago, the 50th anniversary of the game looming and a big-budget motion picture coming out this March, it is truly disheartening to hear a corporate executive complaining that their goose isn't laying bigger golden eggs more often.

In the end though, I take heart that, despite the fact that I sometimes play in three different D&D campaigns within a week, there is probably already more D&D content out there for 5e than I could reasonably complete in my lifetime, and that is before I even take into consideration the huge number of alternative systems and settings that might be fun to try. 

Still, though... you never forget your first, and I would be reluctant to explore underground labyrinths without the comforting lexicanery of things like"armor class" and "saving throw," so I hope that the people at Hasbro recognize how hard Dungeons & Dragons fought, creators and players alike, to get to this point, and how quickly it could all disappear if mishandled.

The Nerd's Niece's New Arrival

I used to love hosting my nieces and nephew when they would visit us from Rocky Mountain House years ago. Reconnecting with family is always good, and we enjoyed a lot of wintertime activities together - sledding, sleigh-riding, and a memorable Chines Lunar New Year in Chinatown on our way back from the Silver Skate festival one year. But my favourite thing was exposing them to bits of nerdy culture and other things they might encounter in their hometown.

A lot of boardgames got thrown their way when they were old enough, but a lot of geeky media too. Fenya and Glory were only too happy to screen the Lord of the Rings trilogy ad infinitum, but even before that I had made sure to screen as many episodes of the animated Justice League series as I could, eventually lending them the set so they could fill in all the gaps before visits. 

So I was tickled pink when I got to meet Jenna and her husband Dustin's new baby Charlotte on New Year's Eve. Well, not really that new, she will be 6 months old pretty quickly here, buit this was the first meeting for most of us.

I was even happier when they brought Charlotte over to sit on my lap the next day in a very special outfit that apparently triggered some memories in Jenna when she saw it:

Charlotte is a happy, healthy, beautiful girl, and I can't believe how well parenthood has settled on her parents. Jenna and her mother Betty had apparently been quite eager to see my reaction to her snuggly hooded (or perhaps better to say cowled) onesie, and I guess my delight was pretty palpable.

But even better was Jenna talking about her fond memories of watching Justice League with me and her cousins as a child. I was always happy to answer questions about the backgrounds of the characters or even the characters in the background and could of course do so at length ("Oh Blue Devil? Yeah, he's pretty cool..."). I remember taking her and Mark to see the first Avengers movie back in 2012 when they offhandedly mentioned not having seen it yet.

Superheros are not only fun, they are also a simple and colourful mythology that lets you explore morality and, well, justice in a safe and entertaining way. It's a big part of why I was so keen on watching those JL adventures with my own daughters.

I'm glad those times made an impression on Jenna, and I hope there are opportunities to do the same with Charlotte at some point too. 

And I am so grateful that my in-laws from the country not only tolerate my nerdity but celebrate it, like with these socks they gave me for Christmas:

Looking forward to being a nerdy great-uncle now too!

NerD&Diest Xmas Ever

 Merry Christmas, my ten of readers!

Our holidays and gifts will always be a little nerdy just because of who we are, but this year’s felt even more so than usual.

Audrey got me this cute Dice Dungeon, so I can incarcerate dice that fail me as a player.

Bryce and Sara gave us this wonderful personalized decoration for our tree, and gave the girls some scented candles shaped like polyhedral dice that I forgot to photograph.

But I was very happy with the gift Audrey and I put together for the group of us, and gratified that it was well received.

A couple of years ago, Bryce and Sara asked if I could teach them to play D&D, which I was only too happy to do. And although I had no intention at the time of running yet another campaign, we eventually folded the Tyranny of Dragons campaign I was running with the family and started Rime of the Frostmaiden with Bryce and Sara.

Bryce’s sister Jenni, a doctor doing her residency in Vancouver, was curious about playing and then her boyfriend Joe (another doctor) asked if he could watch one time. Obviously I refused, rolling up a rogue with him instead and he seemed to enjoy himself as well. Now the group has eight players, but it is rare that everyone’s schedule allows them to attend at the same time - possibly for the best!

Not too far into the campaign, set in the far North of Icewind Dale, Bryce suggested giving their group a name - something very rare from when I started playing, but increasingly common nowadays. I appreciated it because referring to the group as “the party,” “the adventurers,” or “those guys” and so on can get pretty tiresome. His suggestion of “Icehawks” met with the group’s s approval and was thus adopted.

Then I started noodling around with Word (my graphic design program of choice, solely because I don’t know any others), I came up with a logo, and Audrey and I decided to get it printed on some baseball shirts a la The Hellfire Club from Stranger Things.

We got them done up by Print Machine in Old Strathcona (delightful people to deal with), picked them up in November and somehow managed to hide them and not spill the beans until Dec 18 when we got together in Fort Saskatchewan. Bryce, Sara, Bobby and the girls were instructed to open their differently wrapped gifts at the same time, and the response upon the reveal was very positive indeed!

Joe and Jenni got theirs Christmas Day and were quick to share another group picture. Joe’s testimonial was succinct but articulate: “Team shirts are dope.”

So! The next time you are stuck for gift ideas, consider custom nerdwear - it worked out very well for us!

A Messi Finish - World Cup 2022

I am not the biggest sports fan in the world by any measure, but do root for my various home teams and enjoy a good contest sometimes even without context, but I do have an enduring weakness for international team sports.

When all the talk of contract negotiations, free agents, salary caps and whole teams being bought and sold like chattels, it can be difficult to discern the difference between the sports pages and financial section sometimes. But in an event like the World Cup, when everyone competes for a spot on the national side and then fights to qualify for the tourney and then tries to battle their way out of group and eventually lift one of the globe's most iconic sports trophies, and only get to make the attempt once every four years? That's something pretty special.

And even though the governing body is almost irredeemably corrupt and the host nation bribed their way to an economic and sportswashing victory (and tip my hat to anyone with more willpower than myself, able to boycott this event), there are still thrilling stories to be found.

Canada scoring their first goal at a World Cup in more than three decades.

Amazing upsets like Saudia Arabia beating the eventual champions, Argentina.

So much of the world lining up to cheer for Morocco, the first African team to make it to the semi-finals.

I have a number of teams I cheer for until I have to make a choice (which, tragically, seldom happens) including England, Holland, my home nation (obvsly!) and most any African team (who seem to have a lot of the best nicknames, like Les Fennecs, the Atlas Lions and the Black Stars). But as we went into the final, it was less about my cheering for Argentina and Lionel Messi and more cheering against France, the returning champions. 

It wasn't always this way - I remember scheduling our return from a trip to Gettysburg in 1998 so that a friend could watch the final between France and Brazil, with el Canarhinhos heavily favoured but les Bleus obliterating them 3-0, a true underdog victory.

But their behaviour on and off the pitch in 2010, including a player strike and the team being recalled to France in semi-disgrace, really soured me on the team. And so I have resolutely cheered against the Gallic side, despite their obvious skill, despite their many strengths, and two marvelous players like the goalkeeper Lloris and 23-year-old phenom Mbappe.

After today though, and what many commentators are calling the greatest Wrold Cup Final in the tournament's near century of existence, and possibly one of the greatest matches of football in the history of the sport, I can let it go.

I was cheering for Argentina, eager to show up the reigning champions and hoping retiring legend Lionel Messi could gain the last accolade that has eluded him, and I got that, but I got so much more.

• Exemplary football played by gifted athletes with skill and tenacity.
• Besides stars like Messi and Mbappe, the chance to marvel at the astonishing speed of Enzo Fernandes and the astounding goalkeeping of Emiliano Martinez/
• An indomitable French side which, despite rumours of a virus infecting the team, managed to come back from a 2-0 deficit to push the game into extra time, then answer a goal late in extra time to push the game into PKs.
• Fantastic officiating, with Polish referee Szymon Marciniak making bold, tough calls in a high-pressure environment.
• After a grueling tournament and 120 minutes of play,m descending into a penalty shootout - possibly one of the most feared and hated ways to end a major tournament until you realize they used to replay the entire match or decide it with a coin toss.

Football is not everyone's sport, and overall I probably prefer the pace of hockey, but watching world-class athletes run around an enormous pitch for up to two hours of virtually uninterrupted play gives them a claim on standards of endurance no other team sport can hope to match.

It also might explain the surfeit of emotions at the ends of every elimination game: players on both sides with tears in their eyes of either relief or anguish, grown men wracked with sobs, inconsolable due to lost opportunities that may never come again. 

Today's final game was an astonishing window into human competition, in all its artificiality and sincerity. It ensured a legend for Messi bordering on divinity, and has wiped away my dispassion for an excellent French squad that I have no doubt will be a force to be reckoned with yet again in 2026.

Truly a match for the ages, and a sporting event the likes of which I may never see again. Amazing!

Stout Testers

 I have a deep-seated and abiding love for sharing the things I enjoy, and take tremendous pleasure in seeing people take an interest in the thing I share with them, whether it is a creative artist, a movie or album, a boardgame I introduced them to, or even painting miniatures. 

One of the most rewarding examples though was introducing my brother-in-law Jerry to the joy of strong dark beers, particularly Russian Imperial and Bourbon barrel-aged stouts. A few Christmases back we got into some of them and they have become a perennial favourite since. In fact, since moving to Houston Jerry has made a point of picking the limited edition Goose Island Bourbon County stouts that are only available on Black Friday, and has been relentlessly generous in sharing them over the holidays and when I visited him and Tara in October.

Last year at Christmas, I was shocked when gave me a lovely gift box of a vertical tasting of Bourbon Countystouts from 2017, 2018 and 2019. Unlike regular beers strong stouts like these (e.g. 14.2% ABV) can be cellared like a wine for years, increasing in complexity as they mature. Jerry had heard that you were taking your chances once you got past the five-year mark, and had suggested to me that drinking these three lovely bottles might be something to be done sooner, rather than later.

I found two willing testers in Totty and the Rare Hipster, and when I told Jerry earlier in the week that we were tucking into them on Friday, the excitement in his voice was palpable. Quite extraordinary for someone going into the hospital tomorrow night for chemotherapy in preparation for a stem cell transplant!

Before the lads arrived, I printed placemats so that we could have all three vintages served at once without risk of misplacing a glass and having to guess which glass held which year. I had seen this done by the Glenlivet people when I won a chance to drink a 50-year-old single malt.

I decanted the beers into Kolsch glasses - not the best choice for a stout, honestly, but I felt that consistency between the vessels would be critical for identifying different characteristics - and both gentlemen in attendance commented on the rich aroma coming from the tall, thin glasses.

With little preamble beyond talking about the provenance of the Bourbon County brand and reading the copy from the back of the gift box, we tucked into the beers.

In our excitement and zeal we started with the oldest first, which was probably a mistake but WOW, did that 2017 bottle make an impression. Smooth, rich, dark, sweet and strong, with more caramel than chocolate notes as Pete observed, and hints of dark fruit detected by Mike.

Compared to the 2018 and 2019, I felt the mouthfeel was different; smoother and perhaps a touch less carbonation. But honestly, my palate is not sophisticated enough to articulate the differences between the three. I agree with Pete that the 2019 had more of the dark chocolate aftertaste I normally associate with these types of beers, but in truth, the differences in taste and texture were subtle while the flavour and nose were impactful and delicious. 

As the beers warmed, they became even more complex, with the strong boozy taste moving more forward and prompting us to savour each successive sip, and taking deep appreciative sniffs in between.

And of course, giving them high scores and rankings on the beer tracking app we all use, Untappd - apologies for not initially tagging you Jerry!

Perhaps best of all, we had no agenda beyond drinking the beers and enjoying each other's company - no games to set up, no shows to get back to. Languidly draining our Kolsch glasses gave us a long overdue opportunity to catch up at a busy time of year.

All too soon however, the Goose Island beers were gone, and we moved on to some others the lads had brought. I quite enjoyed the Robo Crow imperial stout from Sea Change that Mike had purchased upon release today (and which has a delightful label) and also appreciated the smooth Nitro Milk Stout from Left Hand that Pete had brought. I will have to try them again later, while not under the immediate shadow of something as amazing as the Bourbon County variety.

So much to be grateful for that Friday night - a generous brother-in-law with exemplary taste in beers, the outstanding stouts themselves and having dear friends to share them with. Thanks to all, and to Goose Island for making such amazing beverages!

Cold Weather Comeback

Last Thursday night saw a significant shuffling of cars and unraveling of extension cords in our household, as the overnight low approached 40 below zero, Celsius.

The Jeep that Glory drives to work at the diner was booked in for emissions recall the next morning, and the block heater cord on the Flex had been torn off somehow prior to the previous winter. This meant the older Ford needed to be brought into the garage and the Jeep plugged in out front to ensure both vehicles would start the next day (which, mercifully, both did).

Having the day off felicitated this, a trip to Costco, and the ability to pick Glory up at the end of her school day so she wouldn't have to wait at the bus stop in weather bitterly cold even for Edmonton.

Less than 24 hours later, however, it had warmed up enough that Canéla and I actually made it to the dog park for the first time this week. The cold and snow required dressing her up in her jacket and boots ("Muttlucks"), something she is not fond of in the slightest, but which was achieved without bloodshed.

The wind kept it a bit below -20° C, but once we passed through the double gate at Lauderdale Off-Leash Park, she spent most of her time there on the run, playing with several other dogs (for a change).

I've been bringing the clicker and treat bag with me to try to improve her recall, and while I don't appreciate how much more food-motivated she appears to be these days (not leaving strangers who have given her treats, etc.), watching her come running towards me is still pretty rewarding.

There are so many more important things to talk about at the moment that it honestly feels quasi-irresponsible to spend one of my weekly blog posts talking about simple successes and basic joy despite the best efforts of the cold. 

But all the important stuff - the Alberta Sovereignty Act, the growing healthcare crisis, the enabling of fascists and anti-democracy types in social media and elsewhere - they all make me angry, and there are enough other, smarter, people writing about them that taking time to focus on a happy dog running to me across the snow felt like the right choice after a really enjoyable weekend.