There is something fascinating in the fact that there are about fifty (50) Game masters (more or less) left in the entire world of the game i'm starting to play next month.
I do not know how many Dungeon masters there are out there of AD&D, but i suppose several hundreds ( i mean, in the whole world). I'm counting only the referees, not the players.
Now i know (to some extent) how many Game masters there are out there of one of my preferred and beloved fantasy rpg (to be precise, i have at least FIVE adored fantasy rpg) - and as i said, we are just a few. And there is something fascinating in the fact that i am one of them. It is a strange sensation, i feel like each of us is a pillar who contributes to this game staying alive, a sort of feeling of duty (among the other things), and the odd feeling that i need to drop an email to one amongst these fifty game masters if any of us has doubts or any kind of quandary.
It's not so easy as visiting a blog where you are almost certain to find the new rant about AD&D.
I really feel separated from the flowing community but that is not a "curse" on me or a bad thing.
My situation reminds me more of the period where we had a lot of fanzines around or the period where you had to wait for the next issue of Dragon magazine to see the replies of other fellow players to the letter you wrote two months before and that the staff of the magazine had decided to publish. You had to wait a couple of months to see the reactions of the other ad&d players.
Of course i'm exaggerating now but to know that you can speak to no more than fifty human beings in the entire planet about the game you are about to master (and that you love) is a peculiar feeling. Period. If all of them suddenly died?