The last game I played started with one party member‘s birthday party. Everyone gave a little speech reminiscing about past experiences they had together.
The adventure began, when the party was interrupted by the bad guys.
I think the best game I’ve done started as “it’s a DND world and you’re a band on tour”.
It started with a simple “the bridge is out on the way to your next show”, then there was a battle of the bands, a sketchy record label, and then the players organized a recall of the mayor that was in bed with the capitalists. That game went great places.
Oooo! Reading recommendation for you, if you’re not aware of the title: Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames. The author said that he envisioned the various roles musicians tend to take in a band, and he mapped those stereotypes onto an adventuring party. So, the hot-headed character wielding an enchanted axe is the lead guitarist, the sword and board tank is a bassist, the rogue dual-wielding daggers is a drummer, the mage is a keyboard/synth player, and so on. The conceit is moreso for flavor and world-building than actual plot motivation, so these analogies aren’t necessarily explicit, but it’s still a fun set of character dynamics to hang an adventure story on.
It’s been several years since I read it, so I’m fuzzy on the exact characterizations, but the notion the author seems to lean into is that most bassists are (as you say) nerds who aren’t interested in the spotlight, but they provide a fundamental bridge between melody and rhythm that enhances the other performers without necessarily standing out on its own. Meanwhile, the “drummer” character in this book is less Ringo Star and much more Jon Bonham or Neil Peart. He’s got, if not an active desire, at least no aversion to the spotlight.
Of course exceptions to every stereotype exist, and there’s a very valid argument to be made that a rock drummer ought to be the archetypical support class, but the division of stereotypes made sense to me while reading.
I meant that the drummer is more physically active, compared to the bassman who’s diddling the strings with two fingers. See e.g. Klaus Dinger, Brian Chippendale, Max Sansalone.
The last game I played started with one party member‘s birthday party. Everyone gave a little speech reminiscing about past experiences they had together.
The adventure began, when the party was interrupted by the bad guys.
I think the best game I’ve done started as “it’s a DND world and you’re a band on tour”.
It started with a simple “the bridge is out on the way to your next show”, then there was a battle of the bands, a sketchy record label, and then the players organized a recall of the mayor that was in bed with the capitalists. That game went great places.
Oooo! Reading recommendation for you, if you’re not aware of the title: Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames. The author said that he envisioned the various roles musicians tend to take in a band, and he mapped those stereotypes onto an adventuring party. So, the hot-headed character wielding an enchanted axe is the lead guitarist, the sword and board tank is a bassist, the rogue dual-wielding daggers is a drummer, the mage is a keyboard/synth player, and so on. The conceit is moreso for flavor and world-building than actual plot motivation, so these analogies aren’t necessarily explicit, but it’s still a fun set of character dynamics to hang an adventure story on.
The tank is more typically the drummer, from what I’ve seen. The bassist is a nerd.
It’s been several years since I read it, so I’m fuzzy on the exact characterizations, but the notion the author seems to lean into is that most bassists are (as you say) nerds who aren’t interested in the spotlight, but they provide a fundamental bridge between melody and rhythm that enhances the other performers without necessarily standing out on its own. Meanwhile, the “drummer” character in this book is less Ringo Star and much more Jon Bonham or Neil Peart. He’s got, if not an active desire, at least no aversion to the spotlight.
Of course exceptions to every stereotype exist, and there’s a very valid argument to be made that a rock drummer ought to be the archetypical support class, but the division of stereotypes made sense to me while reading.
I meant that the drummer is more physically active, compared to the bassman who’s diddling the strings with two fingers. See e.g. Klaus Dinger, Brian Chippendale, Max Sansalone.