The Wednesday game group has shifted gears. The smallest group campaign is back on hold, and we are revisiting a storyline we last played just before Christmas of 2019. This is our mid-size game, with seven players, compared to five for the little one and nine for the big Thursday series. After a year and a half we needed a lot of catch-up time. We met online and just talked about what happened, in what order, and where we diverged from what we were supposed to do. (For example, we sort of adopted the big foe in a raid by bandits who was a character designed to be defeated and dispatched. The game master had to run him as a party member for weeks because we decided we liked the guy. And this doesn't begin to cover how hard we made it on the GM when we also adopted a puppy version of Cerberus, the three-headed hound who guards the gates of Hades.) At least two people in our group have lost their character sheets. Three of them turned up in our basement, including mine, but my daughter and son-in-law may need to dig through the debris down there for their info. One of our members referred to our basement as a "pre-pandemic time capsule." He's not wrong.
I mostly rested today, as I threatened to do. I did pick up the main floor a little bit, but I moved very slowly and gently, so as not to hurt or over stress anything. It appears to have worked. I'm feeling pretty decent, all things considered. I might even be doing better than half our group from tonight, where we had one person out completely feeling yucky, and two more stretched to the limit from the busy last week. My body is just lulling me into a false sense of security, isn't it? Heaven help me if I fall for it.
We got some good videos of the baby, to tide us over until we get to be with her again. There is nothing "infant" about her anymore. She is a fully evolved toddler now, and that just fascinates me. I wish I could read her mind. I bet there is a lot of data whizzing about in there these days.
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