You get an inch for yourself. You can move six inches in a turn. The majority of things you encounter take up an inch. This is your world, a flat land of marked off 1-inch squares. You could be a ring, a trinket, or even a four-sided die that hardly anyone uses. The things that you encounter are coins of various sizes, all taking up the same 1-inch square of space that you do. Rally your comrades. We’re going to war.

It’s really hard to make it sound dramatic when you boil it down to the physical reality. I mean, this is what you’re up against:

Scary, right? Tabletop gaming involves combat, and for combat to be fair and structured there must be some sort of system to govern what is allowed, and what isn’t. Large grids of 1-inch squares denote the field in which you are fighting. The same grid can be used for outdoor scenes, indoor scenes, dungeon crawls, or air fights. Pretty much anywhere you can swing a sword; you’ll use the same piece of vinyl.

Movement becomes limited, yet somehow unhindered. Each square represents five feet of space. Most characters can move 30 feet in a round (Quick Math: That’s 6 squares). Now, for anyone that needs to be up close and personal in order to do any damage (anyone with a melee weapon), they would need to calculate the best way to use their space in order to effectively help the group. The most interesting thing about all of this, in my opinion, is the way in which the created reality is put in contrast with the physical reality on the map. While movement can be awkward and linear in the physical reality, not much mention of it occurs in the created reality. The path is created to get from point A to point B. Very rarely does anything in between matter more than as a means to the desired end. As I said before, the most common placeholders for enemy squares in my gaming experience are coins. Back home, we had a giant coin jar that we’d drag out to the dining room on game nights. Whoever was running the game would grab a fistful just to intimidate us, or make us wonder just how much they planned to toss our way. I carried this tradition over to my gaming groups in college. The bag which holds my dice also keeps about $1.70 in change – mostly pennies, but a few odd coins here and there. My group refers to them as “Penny Monsters” which creates an odd mental image, unless you understand the rhetoric of the game.

Space means everything on a tabletop roleplaying battle grid. The size of a creature depends on how many squares it takes up, but for some players, there are other factors that change the perception of what they’re going up against. For example, the most common coin used in my games is the penny. For some reason, if I use anything else, the players will automatically assume that the creature is larger, more powerful, or in some way scarier than anything else on the board. A penny and a quarter take up the exact same amount of squares on the grid (Just one). Therefore, they are both considered Medium sized. The perception of the coin’s worth and size alters the reality in which the players have created, however, so even the logic of the grid system can be forgotten.

Have you ever put dice in your freezer?

In the gaming community, a strange phenomenon occurs fairly frequently amongst players of tabletop roleplaying games. Dice are given human characteristics and treated as if they can respond to positive and negative stimuli. Without understanding the unique spatial and social constraints of the environment, it would be impossible to explain just how or why those in the subculture believe it to work. Actually, even if you do understand all outstanding circumstances, it can still seem a little ridiculous.

The nature of tabletop gaming allows a created reality of imagined space where an infinite amount of possibilities can occur, depending on the creativity of those involved. In this flexible environment, it is not so surprising that inanimate objects can be empowered with human characteristics. It is only through discourse that this can be made possible, though. Without the players to spread the superstitions, where would the ritual begin?

Most tabletop roleplayers are of sound enough mind to understand that their dice are not able to think, react, or feel (though there are a few we wonder about…). The superstition stems from a situational norm that has developed because of the flexible gaming environment. The imagined space breeds many unique circumstances. This is just one of them.

Dice are a large part of game play in tabletop roleplaying games. Most players have several sets of dice, which include a four sided die, a six sided, and eight sided, two ten sided (one with single digits, and one with tens from 10-100), a twelve sided, and the glorious twenty sided die (the d20).

Dice are rolled for a variety of simple and complex actions throughout a session of game. In most cases, the goal is to roll high, in order to beat the DC (dice challenge) set by the person in charge of the session. The phenomenon I plan to explore in this post has to do when rolls are consistently poor.

Bad rolls are punishable. Good rolls are praised.

By punish, I mean anything from a stern look, to actions that might be considered torture if inflicted on a living being. The first instance of dice punishment I ever encountered was in high school. I was playing with a group, and one of the guys was growing incredibly frustrated by his poor rolls. Without warning, he stood from the table and tossed the offending dice into his mini fridge. He sat and continued playing. No one thought this was strange. Eventually, being fairly new to the game, I asked what in the hell just happened. I was informed that bad dice go in the freezer, as punishment. Good dice, on the other hand, were verbally praised. I’ve known some female players to go so far as to believe that dice will roll better if the bag is placed in their cleavage.

The world of gaming is littered with instances like this, where objects are repurposed into a concept that is more fitting for the space and place of the game. Understanding the rhetoric of a gaming environment can take years, but if you have the time and patience, the doors unlocked into created reality and imagined space lead to endless possibilities.

Have you ever put dice in your freezer?

http://i33.tinypic.com/2drceo7.jpg

In the gaming community, a strange phenomenon occurs fairly frequently amongst players of tabletop roleplaying games. Dice are given human characteristics and treated as if they can respond to positive and negative stimuli. Without understanding the unique spatial and social constraints of the environment, it would be impossible to explain just how or why those in the subculture believe it to work. Actually, even if you do understand all outstanding circumstances, it can still seem a little ridiculous.

The nature of tabletop gaming allows a created reality of imagined space where an infinite amount of possibilities can occur, depending on the creativity of those involved. In this flexible environment, it is not so surprising that inanimate objects can be empowered with human characteristics. It is only through discourse that this can be made possible, though. Without the players to spread the superstitions, where would the ritual begin?

Most tabletop roleplayers are of sound enough mind to understand that their dice are not able to think, react, or feel (though there are a few we wonder about…). The superstition stems from a situational norm that has developed because of the flexible gaming environment. The imagined space breeds many unique circumstances. This is just one of them.

http://i35.tinypic.com/10574sk.jpg

Dice are a large part of game play in tabletop roleplaying games. Most players have several sets of dice, which include a four sided die, a six sided, and eight sided, two ten sided (one with single digits, and one with tens from 10-100), a twelve sided, and the glorious twenty sided die (the d20).

Dice are rolled for a variety of simple and complex actions throughout a session of game. In most cases, the goal is to roll high, in order to beat the DC (dice challenge) set by the person in charge of the session. The phenomenon I plan to explore in this post has to do when rolls are consistently poor.

Bad rolls are punishable. Good rolls are praised.

By punish, I mean anything from a stern look, to actions that might be considered torture if inflicted on a living being. The first instance of dice punishment I ever encountered was in high school. I was playing with a group, and one of the guys was growing incredibly frustrated by his poor rolls. Without warning, he stood from the table and tossed the offending dice into his mini fridge. He sat and continued playing. No one thought this was strange. Eventually, being fairly new to the game, I asked what in the hell just happened. I was informed that bad dice go in the freezer, as punishment. Good dice, on the other hand, were verbally praised. I’ve known some female players to go so far as to believe that dice will roll better if the bag is placed in their cleavage.

The world of gaming is littered with instances like this, where objects are repurposed into a concept that is more fitting for the space and place of the game. Understanding the rhetoric of a gaming environment can take years, but if you have the time and patience, the doors unlocked into created reality and imagined space lead to endless possibilities.

Have you ever put dice in your freezer?

In the gaming community, a strange phenomenon occurs fairly frequently amongst players of tabletop roleplaying games. Dice are given human characteristics and treated as if they can respond to positive and negative stimuli. Without understanding the unique spatial and social constraints of the environment, it would be impossible to explain just how or why those in the subculture believe it to work. Actually, even if you do understand all outstanding circumstances, it can still seem a little ridiculous.

The nature of tabletop gaming allows a created reality where an infinite amount of possibilities can occur, depending on the creativity of those involved. In this flexible environment, it is not so surprising that inanimate objects can be empowered with human characteristics. It is only through discourse that this can be made possible, though. Without the players to spread the superstitions, where would the ritual begin?

Dice are a large part of game play in tabletop roleplaying games. Most players have several sets of dice, which include a four sided die, a six sided, and eight sided, two ten sided (one with single digits, and one with tens from 10-100), a twelve sided, and the glorious twenty sided die (the d20).

Dice are rolled for a variety of simple and complex actions throughout a session of game. In most cases, the goal is to roll high, in order to beat the DC (dice challenge) set by the person in charge of the session. The phenomenon I plan to explore in this post has to do when rolls are consistently poor.

Bad rolls are punishable. Good rolls are praised.

By punish, I mean anything from a stern look, to actions that might be considered torture if inflicted on a living being. The first instance of dice punishment I ever encountered was in high school. I was playing with a group, and one of the guys was growing incredibly frustrated by his poor rolls. Without warning, he stood from the table and tossed the offending dice into his mini fridge. He sat and continued playing. No one thought this was strange. Eventually, being fairly new to the game, I asked what in the hell just happened. I was informed that bad dice go in the freezer, as punishment. Good dice, on the other hand, were verbally praised. I’ve known some female players to go so far as to believe that dice will roll better if the bag is placed in their cleavage.

Have you ever put dice in your freezer?

In the gaming community, a strange phenomenon occurs fairly frequently amongst players of tabletop roleplaying games. Dice are given human characteristics and treated as if they can respond to positive and negative stimuli. Without understanding the unique spatial and social constraints of the environment, it would be impossible to explain just how or why those in the subculture believe it to work. Actually, even if you do understand all outstanding circumstances, it can still seem a little ridiculous.

Dice are a large part of game play in tabletop roleplaying games. Most players have several sets of dice, which include a four sided die, a six sided, and eight sided, two ten sided (one with single digits, and one with tens from 10-100), a twelve sided, and the glorious twenty sided die (the d20).

Dice are rolled for a variety of simple and complex actions throughout a session of game. In most cases, the goal is to roll high, in order to beat the DC (dice challenge) set by the person in charge of the session. The phenomenon I plan to explore in this post has to do when rolls are consistently poor.

Bad rolls are punishable. Good rolls are praised.

By punish, I mean anything from a stern look, to actions that might be considered torture if inflicted on a living being. The first instance of dice punishment I ever encountered was in high school. I was playing with a group, and one of the guys was growing incredibly frustrated by his poor rolls. Without warning, he stood from the table and tossed the offending dice into his mini fridge. He sat and continued playing. No one thought this was strange. Eventually, being fairly new to the game, I asked what in the hell just happened. I was informed that bad dice go in the freezer, as punishment. Good dice, on the other hand, were verbally praised. I’ve known some female players to go so far as to believe that dice will roll better if the bag is placed in their cleavage.

Have you ever put dice in your freezer?

In the gaming community, a strange phenomenon occurs fairly frequently amongst players of tabletop roleplaying games. Dice are given human characteristics and treated as if they can respond to positive and negative stimuli. Without understanding the unique spatial and social constraints of the environment, it would be impossible to explain just how or why those in the subculture believe it to work. Actually, even if you do understand all outstanding circumstances, it can still seem a little ridiculous.

Dice are a large part of game play in tabletop roleplaying games. Most players have several sets of dice, which include a four sided die, a six sided, and eight sided, two ten sided (one with single digits, and one with tens from 10-100), a twelve sided, and the glorious twenty sided die (the d20).

Dice are rolled for a variety of simple and complex actions throughout a session of game. In most cases, the goal is to roll high, in order to beat the DC (dice challenge) set by the person in charge of the session. The phenomenon I plan to explore in this post has to do when rolls are consistently poor.

Bad rolls are punishable. Good rolls are praised.

By punish, I mean anything from a stern look, to actions that might be considered torture if inflicted on a living being. The first instance of dice punishment I ever encountered was in high school. I was playing with a group, and one of the guys was growing incredibly frustrated by his poor rolls. Without warning, he stood from the table and tossed the offending dice into his mini fridge. He sat and continued playing. No one thought this was strange. Eventually, being fairly new to the game, I asked what in the hell just happened. I was informed that bad dice go in the freezer, as punishment. Good dice, on the other hand, were verbally praised. I’ve known some female players to go so far as to believe that dice will roll better if the bag is placed in their cleavage.

Have you ever put dice in your freezer?

In the gaming community, a strange phenomenon occurs fairly frequently amongst players of tabletop roleplaying games. Dice are given human characteristics and treated as if they can respond to positive and negative stimuli. Without understanding the unique spatial and social constraints of the environment, it would be impossible to explain just how or why those in the subculture believe it to work. Actually, even if you do understand all outstanding circumstances, it can still seem a little ridiculous.

Dice are a large part of game play in tabletop roleplaying games. Most players have several sets of dice, which include a four sided die, a six sided, and eight sided, two ten sided (one with single digits, and one with tens from 10-100), a twelve sided, and the glorious twenty sided die (the d20).

Dice are rolled for a variety of simple and complex actions throughout a session of game. In most cases, the goal is to roll high, in order to beat the DC (dice challenge) set by the person in charge of the session. The phenomenon I plan to explore in this post has to do when rolls are consistently poor.

Bad rolls are punishable. Good rolls are praised.

By punish, I mean anything from a stern look, to actions that might be considered torture if inflicted on a living being. The first instance of dice punishment I ever encountered was in high school. I was playing with a group, and one of the guys was growing incredibly frustrated by his poor rolls. Without warning, he stood from the table and tossed the offending dice into his mini fridge. He sat and continued playing. No one thought this was strange. Eventually, being fairly new to the game, I asked what in the hell just happened. I was informed that bad dice go in the freezer, as punishment. Good dice, on the other hand, were verbally praised. I’ve known some female players to go so far as to believe that dice will roll better if the bag is placed in their cleavage.

Have you ever put dice in your freezer?

In the gaming community, a strange phenomenon occurs fairly frequently amongst players of tabletop roleplaying games. Dice are given human characteristics and treated as if they can respond to positive and negative stimuli. Without understanding the unique spatial and social constraints of the environment, it would be impossible to explain just how or why those in the subculture believe it to work. Actually, even if you do understand all outstanding circumstances, it can still seem a little ridiculous.

Dice are a large part of game play in tabletop roleplaying games. Most players have several sets of dice, which include a four sided die, a six sided, and eight sided, two ten sided (one with single digits, and one with tens from 10-100), a twelve sided, and the glorious twenty sided die (the d20).

Our world is always changing.

Big, broad statements like that are supposed to be deep. It's true, but could be tweaked a little.

We are always changing our world.

There, much better.

I had the opportunity to watch a movie recently. It was a film I would have never watched if it hadn't been the required material for my digital photography class, I'll admit. The film was a documentary called Manufactured Landscapes, and followed a photographer named Edward Burtynsky.

This was possibly the longest intro to a movie I have ever sat through. It was amazing, though, to sit and watch as station after station passed by. This is what a good portion of our world has turned into. Sure, there are still beautiful, natural landscapes, but there is a certain wonder if the man-made versions as well. Burtynsky made a point, near the end of the film, to state that he didn't want his photographs to hold any political message. He wasn't advocating for or against industry, but simply allowing people the chance to see the parts of the world that they may be missing. He wanted to present the opportunity for these things to be discussed.

This is our world, or at least a very large part of it. We have changed the way we look at place and space in order to accommodate for industrial and commercial needs. Our version of a landscape is wildly different than what it was in the past.

Much like Burtynsky, I don't think that an opinion needs to be voiced here about whether or not this change is a good thing. The point, for now, is that the change exists, and that it cannot and should not be ignored.

Our world is always changing.

Big, broad statements like that are supposed to be deep. It's true, but could be tweaked a little.

We are always changing our world.

There, much better.

I had the opportunity to watch a movie recently. It was a film I would have never watched if it hadn't been the required material for my digital photography class, I'll admit. The film was a documentary called Manufactured Landscapes, and followed a photographer named Edward Burtynsky.

This was possibly the longest intro to a movie I have ever sat through. It was amazing, though, to sit and watch as station after station passed by. This is what a good portion of our world has turned into. Sure, there are still beautiful, natural landscapes, but there is a certain wonder if the man-made versions as well. Burtynsky made a point, near the end of the film, to state that he didn't want his photographs to hold any political message. He wasn't advocating for or against industry, but simply allowing people the chance to see the parts of the world that they may be missing. He wanted to present the opportunity for these things to be discussed.

This is our world, or at least a very large part of it. We have changed the way we look at place and space in order to accommodate for industrial and commercial needs. Our version of a landscape is wildly different than what it was in the past.

Much like Burtynsky, I don't think that an opinion needs to be voiced here about whether or not this change is a good thing. The point, for now, is that the change exists, and that it cannot and should not be ignored.