#RPGaDAY2023 – Day 2: First RPG Gamemaster
My grandfather!
He was a strong, tall man, with a snow-white mane—just like Santa Claus—and perfectly tight skin. Nothing but eyes betrayed his age. He was the most amazing storyteller, and we explored many worlds together.
Some came out of books, others were made as we played outside, and yet more were created in a heat of the moment, as we were engrossed in some fantastical situation we've created.
On one such occasion, we went to investigate the legendary Greek labyrinth where the monstrous Minotaur dwelt. Squiggly lines on the paper were all we needed to get lost in yet another fantasy, retelling situations that've never happened, and yet were so real.
“No, I want to play the Minotaur! You be Jason!” I loudly protested.
“Fine, fine, I'll be the hero then!” my grandfather fired back.
We were sitting by the round wooden table, facing each other, in the house he and grandma built. It was a humble house, with a hallway, kitchen, bedroom, living room, and bathroom. There was a windowless opening between the hallway and bedroom; the table we were sat on was right next to the kitchen.
The whole house smelt of grandma's home-made pizza. She'd make thick, rectangular base, topped with her home-made tomato sauce (secret, of course!) and grated Gouda cheese. It was majestic. My brother and I would mix leftover cheese with a little bit of the sauce, and would eat it by the spoon.
But the pizza was still baking; an eternity; what better way to spend it but playing with grandpa?
“No, these mazes are too simple! You know them all!” I protested loudly, again. “No, I want empty papers! And some pens!” I demanded. “Oh, feeling devious today, are you?” grandpa teased me. He disappeared behind the sliding doors for a mere moment. “Here, will this be enough?” he asked, whilst carrying a ream of papers, a handful of pencils and pens, and a ruler.
“Yes, yes, of course...” I muttered while trying to clean the desk. Rolling the tablecloth has proven to be most unwise—as attested by white cloud which made us sneeze uncontrollably. “Oh my, what are you two up to now?!” my grandma rolled from around the corner, laughing her ass off. “Playing ghosts, can't you see!” Grandpa's response only made her laugh harder. I didn't find it as funny “Come on, help me fix the table. Grandpa and I have some serious business to tend to!”
I grabbed a piece of paper, drew some lines and narrated “OK. You are in a big, wet cave. There is no light...” “Wait, wait, wait! I always carry a torch. Can't go delving without them!” “OK, fine, you have a torch. But only one! Now where was I...”
I was the monster, and he was the adventurer; I, hunter; he, hunted. The Minotaur showed no mercy, and gored him the moment he caught him in a dead end. I chucked the figurine—which had two sharp horns—straight into my grandpa's forehead. It was soon all red from blood.
And my ass was all red from the subsequent spanking.
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