Starting a New D&D Game

I'm starting up a new D&D game. This one's not a long-term game like the last one I ran— the one I ran for more than 20 years. I'm structuring this one around a single adventure. It's an adaptation of an NPC-driven side quest I created in my LT game. As a standalone adventure I expect it will be 4-5 game sessions. And it will be in-person, around a table, just like god and Gary Gygax intended.

This adventure— working title, City of the Dead— is just one of several ideas I've had for games since my LT game fell apart two years ago due to age, changing priorities, and the social cues that are missing in remote play. I have so many ideas but also so many doubts about what's even worth it after the LT game fell apart. I figure a short, closed-end game will be good for getting back into GMing. And figuring out whom to include as players.

Speaking of players, it was hard to find four. Or maybe I just thought it was hard until I asked. Hawk was the #1. When we finally got around to asking 3 others, after months of hemming and hawing about it, all— to our pleasant surprise— said yes. Woot! But before we could schedule a Session 0 one dropped out upon reevaluating his time commitments. We spiraled for a few weeks after that. Then we thought to ask a mutual friend who likes boardgames but has never expressed an interest (that we've heard) in RPGs. He quickly said yes, so we're back to four players!

Now I just have to get the adventure ready. And that... is proving to be way more work than I expected. Probably I'm way overthinking it. But tonight I've spent a few hours getting some player-facing materials brushed up and pushed up into Google Drive where they'll be easy to share. I'll get the players looking at them to ask questions and offer feedback, and prioritize what to work on next based on that.

Salt Ponds in the Part of Silicon Valley Time Forgot

Earlier this year when we were wishing to take an easy hike in the area we tried Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge, a low-key park at the very south end of the San Francisco Bay that we've visited a few times before. We like it for being able to get down "in" the bay— not really in it, of course, but so close to the water that we see almost eye to eye with the many birds in the rushes. It's an unusual slice of Silicon Valley that I've dubbed The Land That Time (and Silicon Valley) Forgot.

With that intro you're probably now expecting this blog to be about going back to Don Edwards. And that's where you'd be wrong. Kind of. Currently the main visitor area of Don Edwards NWR is closed for repairs. They're dredging and reconstructing many of the levees boxing in the various sloughs and ponds. We discovered that much to our chagrin when we tried visiting a few months ago. When we were discussing where to go hiking last Sunday I lamented this closure again as it's been a year and a half since we visited last, and it's an intriguingly different experience from almost any other local hike. So then I studied a map to answer the question, "Is there another park right next to it where we could hike in the same area?" It turns out there is. Alviso Marina County Park.

Driving through the town of Alviso to get to the park on the edge of the bay is like driving through the part of Silicon Valley that time forgot. Tech company HQs and posh condos are left behind as the roughly patched streets thread between derelict factories from the early 1900s and long abandoned storefronts. There's even a stranded boat up in the grass that looks like it's been there at least 50 years. Thankfully the park facilities are not decrepit. It's just that getting out here feels like a journey through time and back.



Once at the park, the feel of being in civilization— modern or forgotten for 50 years— falls away quickly. Marsh grasses grow tall, and the walkways dip deep into them. But then even the railed walkways disappear when you pass through the final "door" (seen in photo above) and you're onto the bare dirt of the sloughs.



Even better— and weirder— than being on the bare dirt is being on the salt. At the edges of the salt ponds hte waterline has receded a bit, leaving inches of fresh salt. And the view out across the points is strange and bizarre. The salt and other elements in the water tints it bright red, orange, and yellow. And small pillars of salt rise up through the rainbow hued water.