I’ve been working on an adventure for a little while now, off and on, between other projects, late at night when inspiration strikes and I let myself go back to being just a DM for a while.
And yes, I’m going to start it in a tavern.
Not a mysterious tower. Not a burning village. Not a cosmic rift in the sky.
A tavern.
(ok, to be fair, all those other things are going to show up as well.)
And not just any tavern.
The most clichéd, wood-paneled, hearth-warmed, ale-soaked, smoke-filled tavern you’ve ever seen. There’s a fire in the hearth, a surly dwarf in the corner, a nervous man with a hood who keeps checking the door, and a barmaid named Tilly who’s much more than she seems.
Why? Because I love it.
We’ve spent the last few decades trying to subvert the tropes, and that’s good; it keeps things fresh. But sometimes, I just want to embrace the classic feel. I want it to smell like spilled beer and pipe smoke and wet cloaks. I want the players to know the adventure is starting the moment they walk through that door.
This adventure I’m writing is a bit of an homage. It draws from the games I played in high school and college, when our graph paper was full of hastily drawn rooms and our taverns were, honestly, just ways to get the party together before we threw owlbears or goblins at them. But those games mattered. And I want to recapture that feeling. Not just nostalgia, but the invitation that those early games always offered:
You are here. The world is waiting. What will you do next?
Writing this for others, though, is a whole different challenge. I’ve written plenty of adventures for my own groups, messy, notes-in-the-margins kind of things. But polishing it up for other DMs? That’s a skill I’m re-learning.
And I still need a name for the tavern itself. Something that feels like it could exist in any D&D world, just off a dirt road outside of town. The kind of place travelers mutter about and locals warn you not to drink the green stuff.
No idea what the name is yet, but I’ll figure it out.
For now, the fire’s warm, the mugs are full, and someone just walked through the door who shouldn’t be here.
Questions
Who. Envious. Accessory.
Back in the day, I was always envious of the guys who had lead minis AND could do a good job of painting them. Back then (1980s) gaming dollars were tight and lead minis were rare and an expense I could never justify.
Today I am drowning in minis. Plastic minis are so much cheaper and I can get them pre-painted, printed in color, hire people to pain them, have my wife paint them (something she loves to do), or most recently, paint them myself. I am rather terrible at it to be honest, but looking to my left and my two most recent ones I can say I am getting better. Better than I ever thought I would be.
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