A Ravenfeast Send-Off for a Friend

Gaming and friendship have been bubbling up in all sorts of unexpected ways for me in the past week. My closest friends growing up were those with whom I gamed. Those experiences around the table transcended the mere chucking of dice together. Play can be a powerful shared experience, and when done with kindred spirits, it's the closest thing I've found to the magic of writing and playing music in a band. They're not the same, but they can involve a transcendent connection with other people in the room...they can lead to a different experience of time and of connectedness. I don't think it's an accident that we use the verb play for both games and musical instruments. They can engage similar parts of our "psyche."

The intersection between gaming and friendship came to the fore unexpectedly just this afternoon in a discussion on Facebook around the idea of commodifying the role of a game master as a "professional service" with actual monetary payment, something I find intrinsically anathema to what inspires me to make time for play. A fellow gamer and friend of mine had a different take on the topic. But all of the imaginative play we've done together over the years has grounded us in a friendship that made it easy to disagree without becoming antagonists.

It's no accident (or surprise if you know me) that I started a gaming group--the Second Saturday Scrum Club--when I got back into gaming a few years back. Wargaming, for me, is at heart about the camaraderie, the friendships I've forged over the past handful of years. I enjoy the crafting side of the hobby, and the creative aspect of tinkering with rules and creating stories and scenarios for our evening's fun. But what I really enjoy is the feeling of a room full of merriment, of people filling my house with joyous noises and energy. In contrast to most other blogs devoted to this hobby, it has been a conscious choice from the beginning to include a fair share of photos of the players during the game. I love a beautifully painted troll or smartly crafted miniature copse decorating the table as much, maybe even more so, than the next guy, but it's the photos of my friends mid-game that really stay with me. 

Incidentally, all of this is also probably why I'll never be much of a solo gamer. Or why I have little to no interest in gathering to game in someplace like a retail establishment instead of a home. It even influences how I think about my own eventual retirement:  I can't ever see myself moving somewhere that doesn't have a vibrant gaming community (though frankly, the friends I currently game with make it hard for me to consider moving at all in retirement). When I was around 12 years old, the factory my father had worked at for 29 years shuttered. I remember him asking me shortly thereafter if I wanted to move to Florida, where a plant in the same industry existed and would likely offer him a job. I loathed the idea of moving because I was so invested in the friendships I had at school and our neighborhood. We ended up staying in Ohio for a host of reasons, but I was very clear on my preferences. For me, the premium is always on the ties that bind.

Which makes it bittersweet when a friend comes into your life and then you have to soon thereafter bid them farewell as they make a geographic move. Such is the case with Zeb Cook, who is moving to Tacoma, Washington, after spending the last dozen years living in Baltimore not too far from Scrum Hall. As I've written a couple of other times on this blog, it has been a real pleasure to get to know him and spend time in his company. Having him join in some Scrum Club games over the past couple of months revealed another kindred spirit.

Scrum Con in Feb 2020: Zeb had just run a game that my grade school friend Sally Remmers and I got to play in together, which was the first time she and I had seen each other in 32 years.

Zeb came over last Saturday to play Ravenfeast, another game I probably wouldn't have given much thought to if it wasn't for my friendships with Tony Marano and Miles Reidy, whose game club produced the rules. It was a large, collaborative effort played by seven of us on a 4'x8' table, attended by Zeb, John, Steve, Walt, Rich, Peter M., and myself. Almost everybody contributed painted figures or terrain to the game.

We divided ourselves into four teams, with two players/warbands per team. Zeb and I played on one of the teams, and the goal was to scour the countryside for hidden loot around the table before the final turn, which was unknown until it was upon us (after the sixth turn we rolled a six-sider and added the turn number to the result; if it added up to 12 or higher, then the next turn was the final one). Points were totaled for loot retrieved and foe's slain on the battlefield. 

Steve and I pre-made warbands for folks, and I created 3x5" templates to help everybody keep the stats straight. We played with the Fate cards and the gold ducats, both of which could be used throughout the game for special actions (e.g., rerolling dice, removing terrain penalties, etc.).

The game is dead simple. That isn't to say it isn't fun--because it is--and its simplicity is a big virtue when trying to run a wargame with this many players at the table. We tweaked or clarified a couple of rules. For example, the shield wall rules needed a little finessing, and Zeb smartly observed that we should replace the penalty for disengaging from melee and make it mirror the handling of attacks from the rear instead. The current disengage rule is so punitive that it's hard to imagine anybody risking a disengagement. 

If we played this scenario again, I'd also add some sort of encumbrance mechanic that slowed down a figure laden with a certain amount of loot. I think this would create some fun opportunities to try to hunt down and poach loot from opponents, something that is mostly impossible given that almost every figure on the board is typically statted with the exact same movement rate.

In the end, I believe Rich and John won the game. But again, I might be wrong. I rarely remember these details for long after the game. Frankly, it's never how I measure the success of them.

Ravenfeast is free, simple, and designed specifically to help introduce people to wargaming who have never played one before. I encourage you to download them. You don't even need miniatures. They have paper counters you can print and cut to use instead, just to try the game out. Go download a copy...the rulebook is quite smart looking to boot.

Note on photos: The below photos are not a recreation of the unfolding action in the game but rather a smattering of shots at various points to provide a flavor of the proceedings. Most of these photos were taken by my wife, Ellen, but more so than usual I sourced some of them from a variety of folks at the table, including Zeb Cook, Peter Megginson, and Rich McKee. Always assume I shot the worst ones below. (Click any photos to enlarge.)

Ravenfeast

Most of the table from one end...

...and a fair amount of the table shot from the other end.

Steve (right) and I (left) setting up the game.

(left-right): Joe, John, and Rich.

Steve tried to convince us this was a historically accurate hat worn by Vikings. I refuse to believe Vikings were actually gnomes.

Zeb and your humble scribe.

Rich and Peter Megginson. Now that's period accurate headgear. 

Walt deeply engaged in strategery.

John and Rich emerged as victorious. We'll seat them apart next time.

John and Rich

Peter and Zeb

Gold coins and initiative cards (with this many players, we had to tweak the initiative rules, too).

I've never been more afraid of a Viking in my life.

Bonus points: Demonstrating the results of combat rolls.

Paint your wagon. This one is mine.

Good times!

John's crafting is always inspirational. This copse with the removable canopy is both lovely and functional. Read it about on his blog, where you'll find inspiration for a plethora of projects.

Zeb contributed this great (and heavy) Dark Ages church to the night's fun.

Mid-game visit by Cha-Cha, ensuring all gaming accoutrements pass the Scrum Hall quality control inspection.

(left-right): Rich, Walt, Zeb, Peter, Joe, John, and Steve.

Closing Thoughts and Parting Shots

I hope you have some friends to game with. If not, I hope you seek out some people to game with and you all like each other enough that the experience alchemically transmutes into the gold of friendship. It happens everyday somewhere.

One of the last things Zeb said on his way out the door was "I wish I had met you guys sooner."

We couldn't agree more, Zeb.

Godspeed, friend, as you embark on this new adventure. Hopefully we'll be rolling dice together and laughing around the table at a convention down the road sooner rather than later.

Gigi claims the table for her own the next morning.