With even the earliest campouts of the Dagorhir season still a few months away, I hope you'll indulge me as I forgo the requisite campfire and instead use the power of the World Wide Intraweb to bring together the Dagorhir family as I spin a tale. This is a story about two imaginary foamsmiths, in two imaginary places - but both having a very similar aspirations.
The Parable of the Two Foamsmiths
Dalnor and Begnor were two starry-eyed, imaginative people... who happened to both live in the most boring of places. Dalnor lived in a quiet town in the north, Begnor lived in a quiet town in the south. In an act of coincidence so preposterous that it could have only happened in an imaginary tale, a few years ago they both happened to stumble across the Dagorhir website at the exact same moment.
However, Dalnor and Begnor were both sufficient, but not excellent, foamsmiths. Neither really seemed to have "the knack," and the equipment they had (and in turn their fellow members) was of the most average variety. At the same day, miles away from one another, they both had the exact same realization (boy, these chance occurrences seem to be happening in an awful un-chance-like fashion) - if they figured out a way to have the fastest, lightest, and bestest equipment in town, they'd be unstoppable! Dalnor and Begnor began to ponder ways to become le grand fromage.
This is where our eerily similar friends part ways.
Dalnor dives head-first into consuming any information he can find regarding foamsmithing tips and tricks. After embarrassingly long hours and a frightening amount of money invested in trial and error, Dalnor creates a gorgeous, perfectly balanced blue sword so fine that GvK himself goes back to the drawing board to learn a few tricks about sword making.
Begnor, on the other hand, comes up with an entirely different strategy. He decides that the time, money, and effort it would take to make better equipment is just too much. He quickly realizes that there is a second way to become the biggest fish in the pond... shrink the size of all the other fish. The next few weeks, Begnor begins to systematically break and ruin any other equipment whenever he has the opportunity. When Begnor sees a sword on the ground, he makes sure his boot finds its way on top of it. When he grapples with spearmen, he makes sure to twist off the spearhead and tear into the haft padding. In only a few weeks, Begnor is able to shred just about everyone else's equipment to pieces, leaving only the heaviest and ugliest blue weapons left on the field. Even Aratar and Greymael circa 1980 would have mocked the clumsiness of these remaining weapons. Begnor, with much less effort, was able to achieve the same exact goal Dalnor achieved - having the finest equipment in the land.
If this is where the tale ended, Begnor is clearly the smarter of the two. Both had the same goal, but Begnor was able to achieve his with much less effort. But fortunately for Dalnor, this story is not quite over.
In Dalnor's world, everyone was immensely impressed by his hard work and effort. He looked cooler and fought better than everyone else. He quickly became a local foamsmithing legend, perceived to be a sage of all that is PVC and camping pad. Admittedly, his goal of becoming the best was only short-lived - his work paved the way for the improvement of others who soon surpassed him in foamsmithing skill and fighting prowess. In the end, though, Dalnor was most satisfied with this outcome. He changed his measure of personal success to include the success of the others he influenced. And, in the long run, the chapter collectively succeeded.
Begnor, on the other hand, did not enjoy such long-term success. Broken weapons made for unhappy members, and battles had poorer and poorer attendance until the fateful day where Begnor became the biggest fish... in an empty pond.
And thus concludes the tale of Dalnor and Begnor, but perhaps the essence of the tale echoes into our very real world of imaginary combat.
Bringing the Family Back ‘Round the Campfire
Welcome back, sorry I don't have marshmallows to share. Nonetheless, hopefully I did give you a little something to chew over.
So, Dagorhir, I leave you with this parable for your consideration. Which foamsmith are you? Which foamsmith is your unit? Which foamsmith is your chapter? Which foamsmith is Dagorhir?
Are you Begnor, the "best by destruction of others," or are you Dalnor, the "best by uplifting oneself"? Admittedly, I imagine that most of us would like to think we're always Dalnor, but I suspect that oftentimes the Begnor in us (or our group) emerges. Does Begnor ever have a place in Dagorhir? Is his approach to success ever justified?
Do we play just a game, and owe nothing more to Dagorhir beyond following the rules and picking up the campsite when we leave? Or are we part of something more, something that is bigger than ourselves, something that demands we look beyond our own personal aspirations so that this crazy Dagorhir family can live on for generations, bigger and happier than ever?
I leave these unresolved questions for your consideration, Dagorhir... and see you around the campfire.