Rocks Fall, Everyone Dies
My Sunday afternoon Eberron campaign has come to an abrupt and grinding halt.
After spending all day Saturday with Jeremy, as he helped me offload the contents of the PODS unit into my apartment, I decided I was too tired and sore to canvass for Gary Peters. So on a whim, I drove to Southgate to get a little gaming in.
I walked into a palace coup. Apparently, last week my regular players had decided to switch DMs, and the one-off adventure Bowen had started was to become the new regular weekly session.
Mourning in Khorvaire, the Eberron campaign I'd been running since the beginning of 2007, was dumped.
Just like that. Without even consulting me or asking what I thought. Jeremy knew, but didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.
The worst part was hearing Rich -- pathetic, schizophrenic, can't hold a job, has played D&D since 1980 and still needs handholding to do the simplest things in the game...that Rich -- telling me I was "allowed to keep coming as a player."
No, wait, scratch that. The worst thing was realizing that people who I thought of as friends WOULD NEVER HAVE EVEN TOLD ME they wanted a new DM if I hadn't spontaneously dropped in on them today.
Maybe I'll keep playing. Maybe not. But after spending hundreds of hours working on the campaign Wiki, composing a comprehensive set of House Rules and plotting the story arc to take into account the flaky attendance records of most of the regulars...I need to think about it.
After spending all day Saturday with Jeremy, as he helped me offload the contents of the PODS unit into my apartment, I decided I was too tired and sore to canvass for Gary Peters. So on a whim, I drove to Southgate to get a little gaming in.
I walked into a palace coup. Apparently, last week my regular players had decided to switch DMs, and the one-off adventure Bowen had started was to become the new regular weekly session.
Mourning in Khorvaire, the Eberron campaign I'd been running since the beginning of 2007, was dumped.
Just like that. Without even consulting me or asking what I thought. Jeremy knew, but didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.
The worst part was hearing Rich -- pathetic, schizophrenic, can't hold a job, has played D&D since 1980 and still needs handholding to do the simplest things in the game...that Rich -- telling me I was "allowed to keep coming as a player."
No, wait, scratch that. The worst thing was realizing that people who I thought of as friends WOULD NEVER HAVE EVEN TOLD ME they wanted a new DM if I hadn't spontaneously dropped in on them today.
Maybe I'll keep playing. Maybe not. But after spending hundreds of hours working on the campaign Wiki, composing a comprehensive set of House Rules and plotting the story arc to take into account the flaky attendance records of most of the regulars...I need to think about it.