Where was I? Right: anyway, just because you are a world famous minor mountain of a man who can feasibly pass as the fantasy character you have loved your entire adult life doesn’t mean you should actually subject the rest of us to it. It used to be about character building, goddammit, and … oh god I belong in a home, don’t I? Article contentĪnd just so we’re clear here: we are talking about the old-school, six-Cheeto-speckled-virgins-around-your-disappointed-father’s-card-table-in-the-basement D&D, the kind of D&D where you actually start saying things like “Verily, my mage Thraesun surveys his bag of holding…” and spend time bartering with Gnomish shop keeps, not this half-assed hand-holding computer-rendered hack-and-slash garbage that replaces space marines with guys in horned helmets. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. ![]() Manage Print Subscription / Tax Receipt.
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