Pieces of Me: Hero, Hero

[ellyssian]

Then with an arm raise the slaughter is started
One or two crack up and start to cry
Selfishness breeds in this cesspool of sorrow
Every few moments I see I friend die
Synchronized watches flash in the sunlight
As into the battle we all are led

Judas Priest - Dying to Meet You

I was introduced to RPGs in general and Dungeons & Dragons in particular back when I was in junior high school - grades 7 and 8, to clarify, given how many clever schemes there are for defining those years. Mark and Percy invited me along for a quick gaming session, and I threw myself into it 110%.

We played maybe two times, and it was Monty Haulish to say the least. Percy and I each rolled up some level 1 characters, and then we proceeded to follow the DM Mark's army as it sacked The Keep on the Borderlands. Instant wealth! Instant levels! Nothing could be cooler!

I judge it at two sessions, one at Percy's house, the next at Mark's, because the third was the charm. Mark couldn't show, so Percy was going to run a side exposition into the nearby caves, using Mark's dice and supplies. I remember thinking everything was going fine, and I also remember Percy leaving via the front door, because we never used it back then.

But something went dreadfully wrong.

To this day, I'm not sure if Percy lost the dice; if Percy wanted his own set and his mother wouldn't give him one so he kept Mark's; or if Percy gave the dice back to Mark and they decided for some unknown reason to mutiny against the cabin boy. Mark made it pretty well-known he was the god-like DM, and Percy was his second-in-command, so I didn't exactly have a lot of authority to rebel against in this little group of misfits. Although what truly happened eluded me, I found myself being held to blame for the missing dice. According to Mark, I coveted them (despite having purchased my own set shortly after that fated meeting,) and I hid them so Percy would forget them.

Shortly thereafter, I walked three quarters of my two mile walk home from school with Mark - scrawny little guy he was, who considered himself a martial arts expert and a disciple of Odin - jumping up and trying to kick my ass, and literally succeeding a number of times, if not in the more demolishing sort of physical way his expert martial arts skilled had trained him to do. It was embarrassing and annoying, but I never rose to the threats and simply kept walking. Somewhere after a half mile or so, we picked up a number of elementary school kids who cheered Mark on. Percy, for his part, gave up watching when we passed his house fairly early on. Mark kept at it, cheered on by kids who knew him, and, apparently, looked up to him. After a while, they turned from cheering Mark on to attempting to convince me to join into the conflict.

The last quarter mile or so I spent walking - same as before - and talking quietly with a kid who had been Mark's staunchest supporter. I expect that I sounded a bit like a Taoist master, when I spoke at all. For the most part the kid would ask and answer his own questions about how I defeated Mark without even lifting a hand (or foot). I dodged where I could, and I took a blow where I couldn't, and I walked around him when he stopped in front of me.

Hero, hero, you have done so well
So sit back and lick your wounds, cause you're sure to go to hell
Take your medal, wear it now with pride
Consolation for the pain and sin you feel inside

Judas Priest - Dying to Meet You