Everything I Need to Know I Learned from Dungeons & Dragons (16 page)

I used to think this was nothing more than poor meeting etiquette, but now I'm not so sure. The whole camp counselor formation might have some value. I don't ever plead blackout and ask what happened during the last session. I seldom try to use my daily powers twice in one encounter (I mean, I do try but I'm well aware that I've already used them). The game moves at a steady clip because everyone greets their turn with swift tactical action and moves on. There is very little table talk in Mr. Lindsay's game. While we may joke around outside of the game and tease each other like a brother and sister, our relationship is very student/sensei in the game. Weird!

Key Takeaway #4:
Force your subject's focus and respect by manipulating your surroundings.

As I pondered this, I heard my name. Or rather my character's name.

“What's Stormin' Norman doing?”

“What? Oh, um, you know. Just chillin'. Looking at … stuff.”

“Well, while he's chillin' and looking at stuff he feels something skitter across his boot.”

“Oh, no. Ew. Um, guys, something just skittered across my boot!”

And just like that I'm back in the game without even knowing I was out. Mr. Lindsay winked at me and I realized whatever it was that skittered could have crossed anyone's threshold. Employing the age-old school teacher tactic of calling on someone who appears not to be paying attention, I am bound and determined to be mindful of every facet of the forty-eight minutes we have left in our game.

Key Takeaway #5:
Demand attention by calling on those drifting off.

THE IMAGINARIUM OF DOCTOR PERKINS

I always found Chris Perkins's voice to be soothing and calm. In fact, it's so much so that I had to quit listening to the Penny Arcade podcasts he DMed for in my car because not only did I nearly fall asleep at red lights, I gave up chewing gum, impulse buying at the grocery store, and developed a sudden urge to quack like a duck whenever I smell jasmine and honeysuckle. Still not sure why.

Once I saw him walking to a meeting carrying a laptop. Only I didn't see the laptop, just the cord that trailed behind him, and I thought,
It's
true. He
is
a computer.
Although I haven't had the pleasure of sitting in on one of his games, there's enough footage out there showing him in action.

So what if he knows more about D&D than probably any resource, human or otherwise, out there? Who cares if he's a prolific writer who pens his adventures from scratch? Pay no attention to the fact that he has elaborate three-dimensional set pieces built to his specs. There's got to be something in here an average Josephine like me can use.

The first thing is obvious: commitment. Mr. Perkins is nothing if not dedicated to providing his players with the utmost in entertainment. And maybe it's walking into an arena filled with 1,200 fans eager to watch your character tromp through the landscape Master Dungeon Master has provided for you, or maybe it's because these podcasts usually involve people who work in highly creative fields, but I can't help wonder if just being in Mr. Perkins's aura puts your imagination into overdrive.

Key Takeaway #6:
Instill Inspiration with Your Indisputable Infatuation

When I worked as a receptionist for an insurance company in high school, Betty, the office manager, told me that I should always answer the phone with a smile on my face. Betty was clearly nuts as this was way before the days of Skype. Perhaps those little kerchiefs she wore around her neck were cutting off some much-needed oxygen.

“Why would I do that, Betty?” I asked. I was in high school after all and therefore a pro at patronizing my idiotic elders.

“So they can hear the happy in your voice,” she said, through the stiffest, most practiced smile I ever saw. Oddly, she didn't sound happy when she said this.

It does work. (Sorry, Betty) and I swear Mr. Perkins must practice this sort of thing when he DMs. Only his smile is genuine, because even with his lips sewn together you could still hear how much he enjoys his place behind the screen. And because of that his players and (in his case) the audience enjoy it, too. There is truth to the old adage “kill 'em with kindness.” Especially when you're a Dungeon Master.

Mr. Perkins also does something clever, and that's interweaving a story arc that's unique to each character. Way to keep them interested. It's like wiggling a big fat magical sword in their faces.

Key Takeaway #7:
Appeal to their selfish sides and let them know they have something at stake, too.

So you know how sometimes you're talking and there's silence, which maybe the sound of
people actually paying attention
, but you mistake it for disinterest, discontent, or worse, sleeping, so you fill the void with more
chatter? Sure you do. Well, perhaps there is something to that old “brevity is the soul of wit” cliché. Mr. Perkins gives the players just enough information to make sure you know there's a whole lot more where that came from. His silences are usually met with dumbfounded faces or pensive head-in-hands moments. He manages to come across as droll and succinct, which of course makes him my hero. I wonder if he's available for HOA meetings?

The Monday of the following week arrived and I affectionately refer to this as Eviction Day. It's bright and sunny and again on the unseasonably warm side.

“Good,” I told Judy. “I can sleep with the sunroof open when my car, a.k.a. my new studio apartment, is parked under the viaduct tonight.”

“Oh, it won't be that bad. I'm sure they've had enough time to calm down.”

“Well, even if they haven't, I feel confident I can win them over to my side.”

“Uh-oh,” Judy said and sighed. “Who'd you catch peeing in the elevator this time?”

I scoffed at the notion. “Gross! I never caught anyone doing that.” Unless she meant my old dog Charlie, but that was only because she was on prednisone and arthritic and I couldn't get her downstairs in time.

“Well, then, how do you think you'll win them—oh my God! You read the book! Dale Carnegie showed you the way!”

“No, Dale Carnegie showed me nothing but the inside of a recycling bin. I've been studying the real masters of manipulation: Dungeon Masters.”

Judy's turn to scoff. “How dare you equate a globally accredited, most influential business leader of the twentieth century with your little dragon storyteller friends?”

“Easy. What do you know about Dungeon Masters?”

“Umm, you have to be nice to them or they will kill you.”

I think she may have had Dungeon Masters mixed up with mafia bosses, but I got the spirit of her comment. “If that were true, I'd say that's pretty influential. But there's more to it than that.”

Just as Betty could hear the happy in my smile, I could hear the absurd in Judy's eyes rolling. “I'm sure it's a tough, undervalued, disrespected job. Just like being your mother.”

Just in case she couldn't hear my eyes rolling, I sighed loudly.

She ignored me and continues with her diatribe. “I always thought I'd make a wonderful Dungeon Master.”

“Always?”

“Well, since you started talking about this stuff,” she said. “I used to make up stories all the time for you and Mike. And I'm good at voices.”

“That's not all there is to Dungeon Mastering. They're experts at winning friends and influencing people, too.”

“That so?”

I went on to explain that once Dungeon Masters getbehind that screen, they're in control. They're powerful, all-knowing controllers of the universe. It's really just a matter of bringing it to the front of the screen, so to speak.

But Judy was not totally buying it. “Maybe they're all knowing and masterful because they feel safe
behind
the screen and being in front of it would just turn them into wobbly, panic-stricken blobs. Ever think of that?”

“No, I haven't, and there's no time for that. I have a homeowners association to win and neighbors to influence.”

I left the pashmina upstairs and opted to wear an old Mariner's sweatshirt and my Chuck Taylors. I'm a woman of the people. I support the home team. I can run like hell if I need to.

When I arrived there are five other homeowners in attendance—Skip, Cheryl, Joseph, Aella, and her husband, Alexander. Obviously this is big business because Aella only trots him out for special occasions. If Aella is all fists and fury, she's practically a baby bunny compared to him. He doesn't speak English very well but he speaks angry fluently. Even when he was explaining the correct ratios between nitrogen and potassium in packaged fertilizer, it was like he was Mel Gibson telling me why I could give up the dream of alimony. You do
not
want to be on the business end of Alexander. Good thing I was geared up.

Fortunately, Skip and Joseph sat at the heads of the table and the rest of the group was spread out along the same side. I sat on the opposite long side and proceeded to spread out my paperwork two seats to the left and right of me. I almost came to blows with three guys in their twenties for doing roughly this same thing at a bar last weekend. Kids these days.

“I think we're expecting more people,” Cheryl said, looking at my plethora of paperwork.

“That's fine,” I said, creating neat little piles. “I have enough copies for everyone.”

Within a few minutes, we had enough homeowners for a quorum. Skip started the meeting off by asking if it was okay to
start the meeting.
A few unsure “ayes” are mumbled around the table, which totally sets Aella off.

“Call-a this meeting-a to order!” she shouted. “All in favor?”

“Fine, whatever,” Skip said. “All in favor?”

A stronger chorus of “ayes” echoed around the table. I could feel Aella's fury from across the table. She had her house keys in her hands and was crouched at the tip of her folding chair. Her body language was screaming,
Tell me what I want to hear or I'm leaving and you won't have your quorum!
Alexander looked on like a restrained Doberman who just caught a couple of intruders. Can someone give me a diplomacy check?

Skip pulled out a legal pad and rumpled notes from the last meeting. It made me wonder if Aella would crumple them up and throw it at poor Skip's head after I left.

“Last time we met, we had a discussion about the potential water damage on the south and west sides of the building.”

“Not so much a discussion,” Aella said, sneering at me.

“And not so much
potential
,” I answered as I sneered back.

She didn't bat an eye.