Editor’s note: About a month ago Mike told me a great story. He, along with some friends, decided to go to “Dag”, a club here at Grinnell that is short for Daghorhir, the magical realm in which its participants reign. Back in ‘03 Grinnell’s website published a story that explains Dag, which is a Live Action Interactive Role Playing game exactly like the movie Role Models. I invited Mike to poetically describe his adventure here on the blog, which he did. Expect more on The D3 Experience from the man they call “Young Bogggggad”.

Here Ye, Here Ye…What do you think of when you hear the word glory? What is the only sport characterized by high impact collisions, hard hits, and unique strategy? If you said football, you’re wrong. In fact, you’re far from even being on the right field! There is no such feeling of pure hatred and rivalry greater than that of DAG. In the words of one of the game’s greats, David Vierling, DAG represents so much more than a common spar in the fields of Mac. In fact, DAG is “A game, a sport, a martial art…a chance to live an adventure (Vierling)”, and an adventure it truly is! From Mordor to Orthanc, and Cowles to the JRC—DAG is a haven for hierarchy and tumult. Fashioned as a riveting experience and a chance to escape the daily strains of life, DAG provides a brotherhood—a portal to Helms Deep and beyond.

While this siege ignites the battlefield here at Grinnell, it was my DAG experience that ignited my will to write this very critique. On a dreary Tuesday night, during the month of September as I recall, I was stumbling across Mac Field anticipating the comfort of my beloved bed. Tired, defeated, and lonely, I went about my business per usual—not anticipating the ranks of war I had yet to experience. A mistake I will certainly never make again! Perhaps it was the sounding of the battle horn, or the brutal and senseless attack thwarted in my direction, but I was somehow made aware of the presence of greatness—a classic battle style known by DAGers as “meat-grinders”. I knew in that moment that I had no choice but to seek revenge. Pulling the hand mirror out the back pocket of my wranglers and half-fixing my hair, half-preparing my game face, I understood the task ahead.

Knowing the sincerity of my situation, I quickly parceled my vessels to join me. With the eye of Sauron hanging lazily above the battlefield, I retrieved my battle ax and prayed to Aragorn that it would bestow on me the luck of Frodo and looks of Gollum. And praise him, it did! Gallanting about, narrowly avoiding flesh wound and perhaps worse, I managed overtake a master of evil, slaying him where he stood. Forgetting all sense of feeling and overcome by a rush of adrenaline, I pranced about the victory grounds like a young wizard in Ollivander’s wand shop—on his first trip to Hogwarts. However, as quickly as it happened, the master dramatically arose from the ground (presumably out of the dead), and penetrated his sword deep into my entrails. As I fell slowly to the earth—shocked, disappointed, and overcome with the pain and bitter taste of defeat—I felt the grip of my ax slip from my hands and soil the grounds beside me.

Unbeknownst to me, I had become victim of my own innocence. It was silly of me (a rookie kinsman) to assume I had foiled a master and commander. I should have assumed that seconds before sneaking up and driving my battle ax surprisingly into his back, he would have enacted his invincibility charm and cloaked himself in immortality—a spell no troll could possibly break. While discouraged and disheartened, I learned the spirit of DAG immediately. An honorable, passion-filled, outcry, DAG represents so much more than glory; it is the love of the game that outrivals any sport imaginable (possible exception of quddich), and fulfills even the mildest of appetites.

Godspeed,

Young Bogggggad

Posted: 10|23|09 at 11:44 am. Filed under: Bogey's Corner.
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