One of our party's most key members

Full disclosure: I have not been an RPG player in over 25 years.

A sense of familiarity and perhaps personal nostalgia drew me to participate in a couple of Dungeons & Dragons themed events.  I recognized the community involved and could at least carry on a bit of a conversation.  As much as publishing companies have done their very best to ruin their game in new and creative ways (ask ANY player of ANY system), the core is very much the same.  This has nothing to do with anything that they print, the core is the ragtag band of adventurers that try to meet weekly.  Always has been.  Always will be.

These groups are as close as any similar circles that you will find, like a golfing foursome or the same team that comes back every year to lose most of their beer-league games.  In roleplaying games you will act out of character and frequently in absurd fashion to help move the story along to a satisfactory conclusion.  Your fellow players might tease you about anything else but never about your performance.  It is the only time where some Nerds (capital N) feel that they can be themselves and the time between games can feel like an eternity.

Ron was not a member of our party.  Not in a conventional sense.  Our group played in games with his two sons and the games were always hosted at their (RON'S) house.  I remember him always sitting in his favourite chair with a great view of the front door as we entered.  He peered over the top of his glasses in the same way that a gatekeeper might peer over a wall at the adventurers approaching town.  They were undoubtedly up to mischief but he would let them in.  Every time.

That look and that peering, though.  It was friendly, yet wry.  Welcoming but poking gentle fun.  We were all certain to give polite greetings and rush up the stairs out of that gaze.  The gaze guaranteed that we would be taking off our shoes at the door without being verbally asked.  And we didn't mind.  Some of us took longer than others due to wearing 900-hole Doc Martens, which were in fashion at the time.

Our adventures had their own feel, like any group.  We were as likely to scheme against each other as any scenario that could be created to oppose us.  We had Deryk (an assassin), Doktorr Hans (obviously an assassin), Morak (a dwarf and specialist at Massassinations), Gouloff (an Ogre, not NOT an assassin) and Jessop (always a near victim of assassination, when he wasn't rallying demons to undermine us).  These games were undoubtedly as loud and boisterous as you can imagine, powered by large bags filled with Fast Eddie's hamburgers and followed by gallons of RC Cola.

Ron never complained to us.  Never said "not this week".  Never poked his head in to see what we exactly the raucous laughter was all about.  He simply provided a constant and safe haven for us to enjoy our night.  Games would end wellwellwell after midnight and we would do our best to sneak out.  I'm sure he was keenly aware of when we left, even if he was asleep.  Yet, not a cautionary word from him, now or the next time.  Years of weekly adventures.  That's a lot of assassinations - you can't possibly keep them ALL quiet.

He provided a safe and regular haven for our adventures.  Roleplaying is not nearly as acceptable as a "cool" thing back then but this was the spot where a bunch of socially challenged teens felt like the badass group that they were playing.  All of our parents gave us a bit of grief for our late night escapades as we returned home at 2am, as any parent would.  They were concerned for our safety.  They might not have ever been aware that we were in one of the safest spots in our world.

For that, I know a few of us are eternally grateful for this regular act of kindness.  He was as key a member to our party as anyone.  This appreciation won't have an opportunity to show at a memorial function - it won't quite resonate with the rest of the family, former co-workers, lifelong friends and others paying their respects.

Every group has these Others (capital O) that are connected to your regular gaming nights.  Some are more involved than others.  All of them care.  And we don't always get the chance to say thank-you.

Thank YOU, Ron.  Wishing you peace in your long rest.