If you're a fan of Dungeons and Dragons , Lego, or (if you’re like me) both of them, then you’ve probably already heard about the latest cross-promotional Lego D&D set. Posts have already spawned on most of the nerd sites, and apparently this week Never Say Dice will be no different. Well, perhaps a bit different. While a review of the soon-to-be-released set will be featured, it seems important to spend a little time talking about cross-promotion in our games. While it may not hit our table-top roleplaying games often, you’ll see it throughout other sorts of tabletop and video games. Before we go into either, though, let's get the Lego and D&D adventure out of the way. Inn Plain Sight Putting Lego into your D&D is a pretty obviously choice, and we’ve been doing it for years. Those who already owned Lego before playing D&D, or, just had easy access to the plastic minifigures, have come upon this idea on their own, if they haven’t already heard about the con

Let's get this out there now: I love explosions. Like any 80s kid, it originated with cartoons - although I'm sure each of us has our own story, going back to a specific movie or show. For me, it was the original Danger Mouse , which premiered in the UK the year Andy and I were both born: 1981. By the mid-80s, it was on Nickelodeon here in the states, and required viewing for my father, my sister, and myself. The opening is a frenetic, yet oddly sparse, mess of energy, serving as a great lead-in to the show itself, with the titular Danger Mouse and his hamster assistant Penfold running from a number of old-fashioned  bombs, each punctuated with an onscreen "BANG" or "BOOM." With each of these "blow-ups," as I called them, my father would lift me and my sister into the air and we'd go into the episode energized and giggling. Blow-ups were not only moments of excitement, but familial joy. Before long, I'd be exposed to the ur-text of cinemat

Though occasionally we may wish it was January’s National Pie Day , a Happy belated Pi Day to all! Also, a Happy Blogiversary to Never Say Dice. Baking up 4 years of posts has been a tall order, but we’ve risen to the challenge every week. It should be no surprise that we've baked up another post for our dear readers that's crusted over with sprinkling of delicious puns. In previous years we’ve provided adventure hooks , rolled out a number of character concepts, and even some proofs of pie-rates . One thing we haven’t yet filled the posts with  are Pi-tems. So this year, you’ll find a small collection of pi and pie themed items for your consumption. Enjoy! - A Pi-noculars - Sure, you have your regular noculars in games. You might even have some bi-noculars. But what about pi-noculars? They let you see just as far as the standard binoculars from your game, but you can see around the largest object in view. Bakery in the way? Crusty old tree blocking the path? Use the pi-noc

How much time have you spent on a particular game? How much time have you spent in that game? While modern electronic games present your total playtime with a prominence making it almost impossible to avoid (especially if you're using a service like Steam), it hasn't been that long since the former question was entirely on the player to keep track of and the latter simply nonsensical. While some of this is a function of the way the Almighty Algorithm tracks us and our gaming habits, it's also a result of games having endings - something else that wasn't always present. Not that the ever-running clock exists solely to feed the gnawing hunger of a monstrous inhuman marketing machine, but it really is a useful factor in how we select games and try to fit them into our busy lives. Likewise, time passing within a game's setting is the result of the medium's development in general. The passage of time in Pac-Man 's nightmare world of flashing lights, powerful (i

In the world of digital games, there's often a final goal of completing everything the game offers. On a modern gaming platforms, you'll probably even receive a “trophy” or “badge” for doing this, and we’ve previous discussed bringing these kinds of achievements into our tabletop worlds. Certainly, one might feel a sense of accomplishment from having reached platinum status in Spider-Man or a feeling of regret when you just can’t finish everything in a GTA game and need to move on. Personally, I’ve been in both these scenarios, and still may re-play San Andreas yet again and finally make it to 100%. Generally, though, this is a situation that can leave you with feeling either very satisfied or with a sense of longing and missed opportunity. Both ends of the spectrum, and all points in between, can be seen in tabletop gaming as well. How can we identify different forms of completionism at our tabletops and how can we tackle them as a team? Quarrelsome Questing Your tabletop