The man stands in front of his open locker after an hour’s worth of pushing metal contrivances in various directions. He is on his way to the shower, and assorted ‘ceps and ‘oids glisten as he strips out of his clever-slogan t-shirt. From the shelf of his locker, his phone rings. It is a sensible bell-tone, not one of those annoying tune-rings that will get stuck in your head.

He considers his phone, and for just a moment he is the very picture of responsibility. He would rather have the shower right now, but this call must be taken. Wearing nothing but shorts and a layer of sweat he answers the phone. Naturally, the observer can only hear his end of the conversation:

“Hi, Bob.”

pause…

“So how far out are you?”

pause…

“No, that’s fine. I’ll see you in forty minutes, and I’ll pass the word along.”

He pushes the “end call” button, and scowls ever so slightly as he looks at the phone’s clock. Apparently the word must be passed along now, before the hot shower these rippling, aching muscles demand. He holds down a single key, speed-dialing.

“Hi Mike.”

pause…

“Yeah, Bob just called. He’s going to be late for the game. Could you holler across the store at my D&D group and tell them the Dungeon Master is about forty minutes out?”

pause…

“Yeah, I’m on my way, but I forgot dice. It’s okay, though… I think we’re leveling characters tonight anyway.”

And as he hangs up, he transforms, the words “Dungeon Master” stripping away layers of illusion. He may have looked responsible and ripplingly athletic for a moment, but he clearly fritters his evenings away as an imaginary hero. Those rippling bits no longer appear to be ‘ceps, ‘oids, or even remotely muscular. He is short, he is on the dumpy side of stocky, and he’s kind of clumsy getting that towel around his bulging middle. At least he’s showering. Everyone has heard horrible things about “game funk.”

That was me, yesterday at 4:58pm, in a locker room that wasn’t half as empty as providence might have made it… though it seemed to empty pretty quickly after I finished calling Mike.

sandratayler wrote a childrens’ book called “Hold On To Your Horses.” You know Sandra, right? My wife, and the person who ships you your Schlock merchandise? Beautiful, brilliant, and yet willing to marry down? Yeah, THAT Sandra.

It seems like forever ago that we auditioned artists for the project. We struggled to make a decision until Angela Call’s work arrived, at which point we knew we had our artist. Every picture in this book is wonderful, and brings a delightful depth to the story.

Pre-orders are now open. The book will ship in about six weeks. All pre-orders will receive, free of charge, a book-plate (it’s a sticker for the inside cover) signed by both Angela and Sandra.

We’re providing PDFs for the book free of charge. Please go ahead and read the book for free at www.holdontoyourhorses.com. If you like it, or if you know somebody else who will like it, support the project buy purchasing a copy.

I spent most of the day down at Dragon’s Keep playing D&D 4e. Played the starter adventure all the way through as a Rogue, and then DM’ed the same adventure’s 2nd half for a group whose DM had to leave before they finished.

It’s a lot more fun than I remember my first 3.5 experience being. This game has play. It helps to forget some of what you think you know. Just roll with the new rules. I love the fact that there are very simple (and very COOL) options for blade-wielding types to make attacks with. You can attack against AC, fortitude, reflex, and will — saves are not rolled by the defender. The attacker just has to beat an AC-like score, whether he’s swinging at you or firing off a spell. Cool.

Anyway, I played for about 5 hours, and then headed home. I have the adventure and the figs, and I was contemplating running the kids through it.

All four were in the back yard, ages 5-13, plus two neighbor children and one cousin, same age bracket. They had assorted padded implements including five boffer swords and one funoodle, and were alternately laying seige to or defending the “hill” we have in the yard. My youngest ran back from the hill to the far side of the yard, and then shouted charge as he ran 80 feet to where he started. Sandra explained… he has to go back there to restore his hit-points.

I don’t need to teach these kids D&D 4e. They need to teach ME whatever THEY’RE playing. It looks more fun.

Here’s Tuesday’s comic.

Well… it’s HERE, behind the cut