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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 7829596" data-attributes="member: 16069">Magic Missile could have saved my life.First PC ever, a Lvl 1 Wizard called Eggnog (Red Box) I was 12 years old, I arrived late to my very first session of D&amp;D (I was out racing on bikes) and so the DM kindly stopped the game (the other four players, also 12-14 years old, were moaning like crazy). I only got a place at the gaming table because my brother was in with the other guys. So, approx. thirty minutes later Eggnog is born, all I have to do is get him from the town to the dungeon (and catch up with the other players- at last).But what's this- a lone Kobold.The kindly DM gave me initiative, I tried for a spell with an attack roll- the DM kept telling me to use a Magic Missile (or whatever it was called back then) but I wasn't listening. I am EGGNOG THE MIGHTY. I send Gandalf to the shops for my Dr. Who Ice lollies, that's how tough Eggnog is. Anyway, I missed- thirty seconds later and Eggnog's dead.The DM, now as fed up with me as the other players (I didn't take Eggnog's death very well), said I could roll up another PC for the next session.I ran off in rage.Damn them all.Damn D&amp;D.Damn it.I was hooked.I brooded for a year or so... reading books, specialist (top shelf) magazines (Imagine, White Dwarf), making plans.Then I was back.Aged 13- voice breaking, hair in rum places- in the early stages of noticing girls.I was ready, I had matured.I became a DM.I've been killing PCs ever since.Cheers goonalan</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 7829596, member: 16069"] [B]Magic Missile could have saved my life.[/B] First PC ever, a Lvl 1 Wizard called Eggnog (Red Box) I was 12 years old, I arrived late to my very first session of D&D (I was out racing on bikes) and so the DM kindly stopped the game (the other four players, also 12-14 years old, were moaning like crazy). I only got a place at the gaming table because my brother was in with the other guys. So, approx. thirty minutes later Eggnog is born, all I have to do is get him from the town to the dungeon (and catch up with the other players- at last). But what's this- a lone Kobold. The kindly DM gave me initiative, I tried for a spell with an attack roll- the DM kept telling me to use a Magic Missile (or whatever it was called back then) but I wasn't listening. I am EGGNOG THE MIGHTY. I send Gandalf to the shops for my Dr. Who Ice lollies, that's how tough Eggnog is. Anyway, I missed- thirty seconds later and Eggnog's dead. The DM, now as fed up with me as the other players (I didn't take Eggnog's death very well), said I could roll up another PC for the next session. I ran off in rage. Damn them all. Damn D&D. Damn it. I was hooked. I brooded for a year or so... reading books, specialist (top shelf) magazines (Imagine, White Dwarf), making plans. Then I was back. Aged 13- voice breaking, hair in rum places- in the early stages of noticing girls. I was ready, I had matured. I became a DM. I've been killing PCs ever since. Cheers goonalan [/QUOTE]

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