Once in a while I’m lucky enough to dream about
things related to role-playing games. Some of those dreams are overly
vague, and easily
forgettable. But
a lot of them are
actually quite wonderful.
So much so that, for more than six years now, I have devoted a
section of my gaming journals to the recording of such
dream-episodes.
Documenting dreams, describing them, putting
them down on paper, is notoriously
fastidious. Dreams don’t follow any of the rules of storytelling or
dialog.
Bear with me, folks.
Plus, this is my first article since the pandemic
and months of staying at home. Let’s begin with something light and
funny, shall we?
*
In one memorable 2016 dream, I found myself in a
garage with Chirine and Tim Kask, and we were busy converting
miniatures. Especially, I remember a series of Efreet
and Efreeta with
diamond-shaped turbans. The turbans were little acrylic diamonds: I
don’t recall exactly how we got them to fit on the figures’
heads, but the end result was amazing – and I was gonna get to keep
one of the finished minis for myself.
But what I remember the most vividly about that
garage is how I felt. Did we have neon lighting on the ceiling, or
individual lamps? I don’t know. Was it day or night? I don’t
know. What I know is that it was the best damn feeling ever. A
totally awesome sense of camaraderie and creativity and boundless
gaming possibilities. I wanted to remain in that place forever.
Really. Assembling and converting and painting miniatures – and
maybe crafting terrain – with
other tabletop enthusiasts for all eternity: isn’t that one of the
planes of Elysium, or one of the
Seven Heavens?
*
My funniest RPG-related dream from last year was
the Lich Convention. In this dream, I was an unidentified character
attending a huge convention full of liches – and at the same time I
seemed to be the DM running it... You know how dreams can be
convoluted and illogical.
The event took place in some enormous underground
temple. As a character, I was shocked and amazed at the number of
liches, demiliches and dracoliches I passed in the halls and
corridors; and as the Dungeon Master, I kept thinking: “Even
if I get my hands on all the lich miniatures ever produced in metal
and
plastic, I don’t have nearly enough different liches to run this!”
Waking up from
that dream, I immediately picked up a pencil and drew this little
booth with the sign: Lichdom:
How To Get Started.
Note that I didn’t actually see any such booth in my dream; the
sketch was just a quick, silly way for me to remember the Lich
Convention, a fascinating con where I seemed to be the only non-lich
wandering the halls – and yet no one ever accosted or bothered me.
I didn’t have the balls to talk to anyone, either!
For months
afterwards, I kept thinking about turning this into a real adventure.
What would the player characters’ goal be?
What would they want to achieve and / or prevent? As of now, I still
have no idea whether I’ll actually use it or not. It’s on the
back burner. But what an awesome D&D
dream it was!
*
Dated November
14, 2015, one full page of my “Dream Log” is about a very
atmospheric Empire
of the Petal Throne
/ RuneQuest
crossover. It took place within a sheltered valley shaped like the
number 8, with a lake shaped like the number 6. Someone in the dream
said that verbatim, and I jotted it down the next morning. “The
valley is shaped like an 8 but the lake is shaped like a 6.”
Oddly enough,
that 8/6 valley was a hidden enclave of Tekumel within the world of
Glorantha, led by a little 5-year-old seer who spoke of Pavar and the
wizard Subadim. This young seer also possessed the only technological
device in the valley: some sort of advanced spyglass with a blinking
yellow light on it. I don’t know if the valley’s denizens were
Tsolyani or Yan Koryani, but they lived mysterious, superstitious
lives within the confines of the “enclave,” while Gloranthan
heroes and travelers passed them by without ever noticing the place.
This is a scan
of my original sketch. It’s not much, but it was made right after I
woke up from that dream.
The lake was
lined with dwellings and shrines, and I remember a big temple of
Sarku under construction on the island, near the base of the southern
volcano. There were two (inactive) volcanoes in there. In my notes
there’s also this line that was part of a song:
Far from the last city and the
ultimate oasis...
In the dream,
somebody sang that song at dusk, after the sun had set; it had much
more lines, of course, but I couldn’t remember them. It was a sad
melody, but utterly beautiful. That dream was amazing, and I still
think about it from time to time. I really
wish I could return to that wonderful, secluded place, if only for a
few minutes – see if Sarku’s temple is finished and if that
little seer is now 9 or 10 years of age.
*
Last but not least, I’ve had numerous “Game
Store dreams”
over the years. It’s never the same FLGS, but it’s always packed
with breathtaking, unfindable sourcebooks, maps, accessories,
miniatures, and pieces of terrain. There was this one time when I
walked into an unidentified “dream” store, and lo and behold:
they had the entire line of miniature trees and flora for Expedition
to the Barrier Peaks,
each weird plant and thorn-bush in its separate box with
never-before-seen Erol Otus art! I was ecstatic. It was like I had
just discovered the Ark of the Covenant with
the Holy Grail inside of it.
Game Store
dreams are the most common of all RPG-related dreams, but I still
love them. I have them perhaps once a month or so. It’s always a
bummer to wake up and realize you didn’t actually buy this or that
rare item – but I’m still very happy when it happens. It makes me
smile from ear to ear.
*
There’s no “practical”
point to this post, except to say that sometimes it appears that I
continue in this
hobby just to keep my brain immersed in it – and dream about it
every once in a while. Indeed, those dreams are more frequent than
the actual games I get to run in any given year.
I
also wanted to write this post because I never came across any
article broaching this particular topic, and I’m genuinely
interested by it. Really.
I’d love
to read about some of James Maliszewski’s RPG-flavored dreams, and
David Hartlage’s – and Jeremy Crawford’s, for that matter.
Tell me yours in the comments section.
No comments:
Post a Comment