Topic: Gods and Monsters…

Author: Chris Dunn

Gifts from the grande dames in the family were standard, five bucks – five dollars from Grandma Dunn, five dollars from Grandma Donnellon, five dollars from Aunt Helen. Not much in today’s money, sure, but at the time the combination, fifteen smackers, felt like a fortune. Christmas would be over, but then would come second Christmas when we take our wads of cash to the store and waste it on toys and games, none of which I can even recall today. Still, it was more than an expectation, it was a certainty, 15 bucks to fill in any gaps in my Christmas haul. So, it was with some confusion and trepidation that I looked at the colorfully wrapped box in my hands.

“I decided to try something new this year,” said Grandma Dunn. “I actually went shopping.”

Now, I loved my grandmother. She was family, and she laid out a good holiday spread each year. Sometimes she lacked a bit of tact, like the time she told me how pleased I was becoming “one of the round people”, but she always meant well. Still, I didn’t hold out much hope for the contents of the box. Seriously, old lady, I’m ten. I think I know what I want better than you. Had she even looked at my list?!

But, I knew the drill. My parents had taught me proper gift receiving etiquette after the embarrassing First Communion debacle, when I tore open my Aunt Lee’s card and – finding no check inside – quickly discarded it, unread, declaring, “Pfft… Nothing!” Everyone had laughed, but later that day my mother told me about disappointing people, and how – though they might not show it at the time – my actions could hurt. So I painted on my best, practiced, gift-smile and tore into the package.

“I asked the man at the store what he had for a bright, young boy?” she explained.

I assume she offered the explanation because of the confusion showing plainly on my face. A large reptile with an almost human face stared through an open archway at a pair of men, one wielded a bow and was clad in armor while the other brandished a sparkling wand and wore hat covered in stars. The conflict here was obvious. These men had come for the pile of gold the creature was sitting on, and he was having none of it. This wasn’t some grandma gift, some hook-a-rug craft kit, some nerf football, this was…. I had no idea what it was.

The banner read “Dungeons & Dragons”, but in 1978 this meant nothing to anyone. My grandma went on talking about her trip to the local game store “Wanna Play?”, and her encounter with the proprietor, who had recommended this game in answer to her query. So, it was a game! I opened the box but couldn’t find the board just a set of strangely shaped dice and a couple of large soft cover books. I thanked her with a nod and the gift giving moved on to one of my siblings.

I liked that she thought I was bright, and as the evening continued, I pulled out the box periodically and flipped through the densely packed pages. So much text! A few brief comics and the occasional illustration, but for the most part the books were packed with information and impenetrable jargon. I was in over my head, but didn’t want it to show, so I flipped the pages slowly as if I was reading while putting the book down now and then as if to reflect on my reading.

Lucky for me, my mother didn’t let it go at that. She took the time, read through the dense manual of rules, and took me on my first adventure. I think we all got killed by yellow mold, but that was all it took, and I was hooked. Forty years later and we’ve gone from that basic set, to Advanced D&D, 2^nd Edition, 3^rd Edition, 3.5, and now Pathfinder – along with dozens of similar fantasy games and competing genres. I’ve never stopped playing. Outside of vacations and holidays, I don’t think a week has gone by that I haven’t run or played, and even when I’m not actively playing, I’m thinking and plotting, building worlds in my head, worlds filled with gods and monsters.

Thanks, Gradma!