Ernie stepped gingerly knowing one false move could leave his elf family of four without a father. There were traps everywhere and those were just the least of the dangers. Still, he had to go on. Herman had Lowenda. Up until then Herman and his band of hobgoblins had just been a nuisance, their mischief pretty much left to raiding hen houses or pig-sticking a hog or two here and there. But this, this was serious. Lowenda was the king’s daughter. Ernie could empathize. He, too, had a daughter. If something were to happen to her, he couldn’t imagine what he would do. That thought entertained his mind as he rounded the corner and found himself staring face to face with a fimir. Oh no, Ernie thought, this is the end ...
Ah yes. Ernie the elf. I remember him well. He was me. Ernie was my imaginary character – a pewter game piece – from a game called Hero Quest. He was my character, at least on those rare occasions when I wasn’t the dungeon master. Ernie was me. Charlie the Cleric belonged to my best friend – and coworker in the Air Force – Brian Purtell. Bob the Barbarian was my oldest son, Jeremy, and Dude the Dwarf was the playing piece of choice by my youngest son, Josh. (Dude also provided comic relief as it turned out. Charlie: “Dude, that’s an ogre.” Bob: “I know. And I’m not Dude.” Charlie: “No, I was just saying ... aw, never mind ...”)
This band of heroes – which as you can tell from “Dude” played out more like a group of 21st Century misfits – originated back around 1993 when I was stationed in the United Kingdom and bought the game.
It came with 14 quests, but once we finished those, we were hungry for more. I had one of the original Mac’s back in those days. It didn’t have a hard drive. Instead, everything was done via a 3.5 disc (remember them). Using that, however, I was able to make up a miniaturized version of the game board, and from there designed and wrote quest after quest for us to play. Further, I started going out and buying more pewter figurines to expand and expand and expand upon our brave, new world.
Talk about good times. I know. It was only a “silly” little game. But to us, it was a major bonding experience. We typically only played on the weekend, but when we did, it was hours upon end.
Around 1998 came a move to Valdosta. Ernie and gang were relegated to a plastic container and storage under the bed at that point. And there they have remained until I stumbled across them the other day.
Further, the move to Valdosta ushered in a whole nother lifestyle for my sons. They made new friends, got jobs, bought cars and drifted away.
Today, they are both grown. Each has gotten married and each has children – one has two, the other one – of their own.
They have their own lives now. They are like so many of our children in that they are just too busy to slow down and spend a whole lot of time with “mom” and “dad”. And I know I mention our time together in that past setting as if we were always doing stuff like that, but the truth is, in so many ways I epitomized that song “Cat in the Cradle”. In other words: My sons are just like me.
So it was with both joy and a bit of a heavy heart that I looked through the contents of Hero Quest in that plastic container – re-reading some of the 23 quests I had written above and beyond the 14. (My latest hobby has been to buy a bunch of paints and the tiniest of paintbrushes and to begin transforming them from plain pewter to lifelike images.)
It brought back so many memories and yet they were of a time that seemed so long, long ago. And gone forever.
Unless ... and then a thought occurred to me. Maybe, just maybe ... I quickly looked for a pencil and a pad and began to write.
Quest 24: Heroes reunited ... Ernie’s knees almost buckled as his eyes lined up point blank with the razor sharp teeth of the fimir. What he wouldn’t give to have his friends here now. And then he remembered ‘the wishing spell’ ...
