Today, I take a break from Dragon Valley to present you with a short horror story. It is best read in the dark and the quiet, or with slow instrumental music in the background.
***
The fog filled the city streets. It soaked through clothes and skin to chill the bones. The lampposts lining the street provided only dim lighting by which to navigate. Few were the carriages with drivers in top hats and heavy coats. Fewer still were those walking alone. In one set of streets, a single soul walked in the night, holding tightly to her worn handbag.
Ciara was that soul. She had had been pleading with her brother to come home. He mocked her, embarrassed her until she ran crying into the still night. Her last hope was shattered. Her family lay would be ruined by her brother's heartless deeds. Soon, they would all live on streets.
“Degenerate shade,” she whispered, “Shadows and darkness, you will kill us.”
“Degenerate shade, indeed,” the fog whispered back, too quietly to be heard and too loud to be ignored. She looked around for the source of the voice, but quickened her pace. There was no one near enough to whisper so forcefully.
“What do you seek from darkness, deary?” The voice was honey that soothed the very dread it brought.
“I seek nothing of darkness, nor of your madness. It was an expression only, nothing but words,” she said, loud enough that a person following her would clearly hear. Yet she saw no one, and heard only normal nightly noises. Laughter, distant even when it was near. Hooves on cobblestones. A constable's whistle a long way off, but no commotion nearby.
“Ah, but words are magic, my dear. Words bind people to people, words create buildings and cities and empires. Words give voice to your dreams and to your fears.”
“Why bother me? Leave it be.” She could only hope her voice did not sound as shaken as she felt.
The fog in front of her eyes thickened. It swam in the air as an eel in water, and circled her.
“Oh, but the taste of your heart is sweet. Your sorrow and fear are intoxicating.”
She heard breathing, felt a chill wind on her ear. She turned, but saw only fog. She walked slow now, carefully watching. She held her bag tightly to her. There was nothing earthly on which to blame the voice.
“I warn you, apparition; leave me be. If you are in my mind, then be gone. If you are real, then take your leave.”
There was laughter like silk tightly held over mouth and nose. The fog grew thicker, and took a vaguely human form beside her. It had disjointed legs and arms that trailed into mist where hands would be. Its head was large and strangely long.
“Oh, no. I was summoned by fear and will leave with the soul which called me forth."
Ciara reached into her bag, taking hold of the weapon within.
“I did not call you, but I will end you.”
“Oh, deary. You cannot end me.”
She drew a small pistol and put it in the heavy mist. She fired, once. The creature laughed. The mist grew thicker. She drew her hand back slowly, as though treading water.
“Guns do not banish fear, young one. They make it more real.”
It grabbed her by her throat, its icy hand holding her tight. It lifted her up, dragging just her toes along the road so she could not step away. It pushed her up against a brick wall. Its other hand pushed on her stomach, the chill holding her there. It had eyes now, all too human eyes more real than the creature. It's grin shone darkness. It's lips were jagged teeth.
“Now I will make my meal of your heart. When I am done, I will go to your brother and consume his mind. Of your family will I make my greatest meal.”
Its tongue snaked out and slithered into her ear. Her pulse quickened, her muscles trembled. Her face turned red from the effort to breathe.
“Gun,” she gasped.
When the creature laughed and spoke, the words came from inside her.
“The gun failed. Your fear feeds me well.”
It squeezed her throat tighter. Her breathing barely came. She tried to choke out another word, and kicked against the wall. More fog solidified and held her still.
“There is none to hear you scream but I.”
She gathered the last of her breath and spoke.
“Noise,” she said, and lifted a finger, trying to point behind the creature.
It turned it's head. A figure appeared, a shadow not formless like he. Someone in a top hat approached, and the creature turned back to Ciara. She smiled, though she could barely see the approaching figure. The sweet fear had drained from her face.
“I do not fear when I have people with me,” she said with a harsh whisper.
She slipped through the misted creature's hand, and fell to the ground. The creature turned to the approaching person and let loose a great roar that shook buildings. They paused. Ciara coughed and spoke.
“Do not fear. This creature came for me; it cannot have you.”
It turned back and leaned over, roaring in her face. She smiled, and the lines of the creature began to fade into the mist around it.
“Now be gone.”
“Oh, deary. I'm never gone,” it whispered, just before it's form fully rejoined the fog. Another moment, and the roar of the whisper faded away.
The carriage driver held out a hand and helped her stand. “Are you alright?”
Ciara nodded. “There is nothing like company to drive away fear. I could use a ride home.”
The driver nodded, and showed her to the carriage. The horse's hooves clapped on the stones. And though the creature did not reappear that night, Ciara felt its icy touch on her throat throughout the fog.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Superman vs Affleck
We finally have a good Superman movie in Man of Steel.
I didn't like any of the other Superman movies. This may damage my credibility with some geeks, but let's face it. The movies were slow, the plots uninteresting, and the characters foolish. Luthor was an idiot. Trying to blow up the East Coast so you can get cheap ocean side property way inside the mainland? A half-crazed cat would know that's a bad idea. And then Superman – giving his weaknesses to a reporter during an interview. I mean, seriously, come on.
Not to mention the strange, random powers – the plastic letter from his chest, turning back time, changing Lois' memory. None of those were used anywhere else, none of them make sense, none of them were necessary.
That's not even touching on Superman Returns.
Superman's always been better on tv, in my opinion. I watched the old black and white show as a kid, back when Nick-at-Nite was fairly new. I watched Lois & Clark with my family, though I enjoyed it more then than I do now. And of course Smallville, which I still love.
Man of Steel, however, was interesting. Some characters made bad decisions, and there were ways the heroes could have prevented most of the terrible things that happen in the movie (working hard to avoid spoilers here). But the villain had believable motives. The main characters were interesting and somewhat intelligent. Superman does some things that are not his style, but comes across as human. [Irony!]
And now Ben Affleck is being cast as Batman in the sequel to Man of Steel. (Some are calling it Batman vs Superman.) I've said before that I have trouble picturing Ben as Batman, but my reactions have not been anywhere near as strong as others'. My first reaction was that maybe he was the right one for the script...but there's no script yet. My confidence is a little shaken at that, but let's take a look at the facts.
I didn't like any of the other Superman movies. This may damage my credibility with some geeks, but let's face it. The movies were slow, the plots uninteresting, and the characters foolish. Luthor was an idiot. Trying to blow up the East Coast so you can get cheap ocean side property way inside the mainland? A half-crazed cat would know that's a bad idea. And then Superman – giving his weaknesses to a reporter during an interview. I mean, seriously, come on.
Not to mention the strange, random powers – the plastic letter from his chest, turning back time, changing Lois' memory. None of those were used anywhere else, none of them make sense, none of them were necessary.
That's not even touching on Superman Returns.
Superman's always been better on tv, in my opinion. I watched the old black and white show as a kid, back when Nick-at-Nite was fairly new. I watched Lois & Clark with my family, though I enjoyed it more then than I do now. And of course Smallville, which I still love.
Man of Steel, however, was interesting. Some characters made bad decisions, and there were ways the heroes could have prevented most of the terrible things that happen in the movie (working hard to avoid spoilers here). But the villain had believable motives. The main characters were interesting and somewhat intelligent. Superman does some things that are not his style, but comes across as human. [Irony!]
And now Ben Affleck is being cast as Batman in the sequel to Man of Steel. (Some are calling it Batman vs Superman.) I've said before that I have trouble picturing Ben as Batman, but my reactions have not been anywhere near as strong as others'. My first reaction was that maybe he was the right one for the script...but there's no script yet. My confidence is a little shaken at that, but let's take a look at the facts.
- Zack Snyder returns as director. There are often issues when changing directors between an original and a sequel, and that won't be a problem here. He did well on the first, and there's no reason to expect less from him.
- Christopher Nolan is a producer on the sequel. He directed Momento, Inception, and the Dark Knight trilogy, and wrote on all those movies. He was also a producer on Man of Steel. I think he's earned a little respect, and some trust that he'll help make a decent film.
- David S. Goyer will be the writer. He wrote for the Dark Knight Rises Trilogy and Man of Steel. He's familiar with both Batman and Superman. Even without those writing credentials, he's written on a number of movies, tv series and comic books.
- If you're worried about one man playing two different superheroes: Johnny Storm and Captain America. Both Chris Evans. (Drat. I was going to avoid mentioning Daredevil.)
- If you're worried about that man being Affleck: well, the only thing I can say is maybe you're right and maybe you're wrong. Keep in mind that the Batman in this film is not supposed to be a continuation of the Dark Knight, (from what we've heard), so he doesn't need to be Christian Bale. Also, Ben's been hitting the gym since the role was announced. Maybe with a few more muscles he will seem like Batman.
- It looks like he's been signed on to multiple movies as Batman, which shows that the Snyder and Nolan must have some kind of faith in him. They seem to know how to make a good film, so I'll back out of their way and let them do their thing.
At the end of the day, I'm looking forward to another good Superman movie, which is not something I ever thought I'd say.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Dragon Valley: The Crazy Troll
You can see the first Dragon Valley Installment here, the most recent previous installment here, and the next one here.
We had just left the House of the Gods. I looked at the sun. It was late in the morning; I’d hoped to be on the way out of town soon, but hadn’t talked to the people I’d mainly come to see. I looked over to Hana. She was watching me, expectantly.
“Well? Are we going to go get your friends you were coming here for? Or do you want to stop by the tinker first?”
I thought for a moment. “I don’t think the tinker will have anything useful I can buy, but he might have something for the others. We’ll recruit them first.”
“I hope they're worth their salt. And don't think we're done with the silver.”
“Actually, we are. The silver is irrelevant and distracting. Furthermore, until the dragon or myself are dead, I am the captain and you are a soldier. I welcome input but not insult, and the decisions are mine to make. And I don’t need you undermining me in front of the others. Understand?”
She put a hand on her hip and with annoyance said, “Oh, look who's all - ”
“I said do you understand?”
She tightened her lips. I crossed my arms and stared her down. She opened her mouth. I lifted my finger to silence her, and spoke first.
“We’ll have to work together, everyone focused on one goal, for any chance of success. In battle, there isn’t time to mouth off and trade snappy comments. If you can’t handle that, go back to your bakery.”
Her hand went down to the mace that now hung from her hip. She looked at it, then back at me. The expression she wore wasn’t one I’d often seen on her, and I couldn’t place it. Respect? Thoughtfulness? Anticipation?
She nodded. “Yes, Zed.”
“Good enough. And Hana? We'll talk about the silver we get back.”
“You bet your sugar we will.”
We smiled at each other, and headed for our next member: a seven foot tall man named Sal.
---
It was rumored that Sal had troll blood somewhere in his family. He was huge, ugly, and could take incredible amounts of damage. He favorite weapon was an enormous hammer which could break the bones of three men, with a good swing.
We found him at the Crazy Troll. He owned it, which explained the name. He also spent most of his time there, which explained the smell of stale sweat. We were sitting across a table from him, waiting for his answer. After hearing our decision to kill the dragon, he was busy draining a beer. He set it on the table - though, if anyone else set it down that hard, I’d accuse them of slamming it. The few other people didn’t even glance at the sound.
Sal had a deep, strong voice. “So, let me get this straight. Kill the dragon, save the valley, rescue the treasure.”
I nodded, “You got it big man. Are you in?”
“No.”
I stared at him a moment, and looked to my sister. She shrugged. I turned back to Sal.
“But - I’ve never seen you turn down a fight.”
“People. Bears. A tiger, once. Give me something to wrestle, if I lose my weapon. Bones I can break, necks I can snap. Bloody entrails, send me after a whole army. But dragon’s not a fight, not big ones. Dragon’s suicide.”
“And the treasure - “
“Can’t spend treasure if you’re dead.”
Hana reached forward and touched his arm. “It would be nice if there were someone as strong as you to protect me. I bet you’re braver than you’re letting on.”
I stared at Hana. I'd seen her make flip comments some thought were flirting. But I'd never seen her bat her eyes like that, not to talk someone into something. Maybe I was drifting further from my family than I thought.
Sal smiled. He was trying to be nice, but it was a frightening grin. He touched her hand. “Dragons, the only protection is staying away. I’ll keep you safe here, though. Protect you from anything that comes into town.”
I could almost swear Hana blushed. She took her hand back and shook her head. “Sorry, this boy over here needs - oi!”
She gave me a dirty look for kicking her under the table, and coughed. “This brother of mine needs soldiers. He needs people he can count on.”
He shook his head, a little slowly. “This fight isn’t worth the dragon’s horde. Have a drink, or go. I’d rather you stay here all day, drinking. My treat. I’d hate to lose a friend.”
I stood and shook my head. “Sorry, big guy. But I have something bigger even than you that I need to take care of.”
---
Stepping back into the sun made me realize how dark the Crazy Troll was. I blinked the darkness away, and took a deep breath to clear my nose.
“The smell comes on almost as strong as his presence,” Hana said.
I sighed and examined the clouds. I had to think.
“Can you do this without him?” she asked.
“It was pretty doubtful with him.”
“Didn’t you say you’d fight the dragon with a pitchfork?”
I nodded. “Yes. But I thought he’d be holding one, too. Brightness, but fighting a dragon on a whim takes a lot of preparation.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think you’re preparing enough. Gotta give the dough time to rise.”
I coughed, drew up my shoulders and puffed out my chest just a little. I spoke with more confidence than I felt. “We’ve got a dragon to slay. And one more stop to make, plus the tinker, before we head that way. Let's not delay this any longer."
We had just left the House of the Gods. I looked at the sun. It was late in the morning; I’d hoped to be on the way out of town soon, but hadn’t talked to the people I’d mainly come to see. I looked over to Hana. She was watching me, expectantly.
“Well? Are we going to go get your friends you were coming here for? Or do you want to stop by the tinker first?”
I thought for a moment. “I don’t think the tinker will have anything useful I can buy, but he might have something for the others. We’ll recruit them first.”
“I hope they're worth their salt. And don't think we're done with the silver.”
“Actually, we are. The silver is irrelevant and distracting. Furthermore, until the dragon or myself are dead, I am the captain and you are a soldier. I welcome input but not insult, and the decisions are mine to make. And I don’t need you undermining me in front of the others. Understand?”
She put a hand on her hip and with annoyance said, “Oh, look who's all - ”
“I said do you understand?”
She tightened her lips. I crossed my arms and stared her down. She opened her mouth. I lifted my finger to silence her, and spoke first.
“We’ll have to work together, everyone focused on one goal, for any chance of success. In battle, there isn’t time to mouth off and trade snappy comments. If you can’t handle that, go back to your bakery.”
Her hand went down to the mace that now hung from her hip. She looked at it, then back at me. The expression she wore wasn’t one I’d often seen on her, and I couldn’t place it. Respect? Thoughtfulness? Anticipation?
She nodded. “Yes, Zed.”
“Good enough. And Hana? We'll talk about the silver we get back.”
“You bet your sugar we will.”
We smiled at each other, and headed for our next member: a seven foot tall man named Sal.
---
It was rumored that Sal had troll blood somewhere in his family. He was huge, ugly, and could take incredible amounts of damage. He favorite weapon was an enormous hammer which could break the bones of three men, with a good swing.
We found him at the Crazy Troll. He owned it, which explained the name. He also spent most of his time there, which explained the smell of stale sweat. We were sitting across a table from him, waiting for his answer. After hearing our decision to kill the dragon, he was busy draining a beer. He set it on the table - though, if anyone else set it down that hard, I’d accuse them of slamming it. The few other people didn’t even glance at the sound.
Sal had a deep, strong voice. “So, let me get this straight. Kill the dragon, save the valley, rescue the treasure.”
I nodded, “You got it big man. Are you in?”
“No.”
I stared at him a moment, and looked to my sister. She shrugged. I turned back to Sal.
“But - I’ve never seen you turn down a fight.”
“People. Bears. A tiger, once. Give me something to wrestle, if I lose my weapon. Bones I can break, necks I can snap. Bloody entrails, send me after a whole army. But dragon’s not a fight, not big ones. Dragon’s suicide.”
“And the treasure - “
“Can’t spend treasure if you’re dead.”
Hana reached forward and touched his arm. “It would be nice if there were someone as strong as you to protect me. I bet you’re braver than you’re letting on.”
I stared at Hana. I'd seen her make flip comments some thought were flirting. But I'd never seen her bat her eyes like that, not to talk someone into something. Maybe I was drifting further from my family than I thought.
Sal smiled. He was trying to be nice, but it was a frightening grin. He touched her hand. “Dragons, the only protection is staying away. I’ll keep you safe here, though. Protect you from anything that comes into town.”
I could almost swear Hana blushed. She took her hand back and shook her head. “Sorry, this boy over here needs - oi!”
She gave me a dirty look for kicking her under the table, and coughed. “This brother of mine needs soldiers. He needs people he can count on.”
He shook his head, a little slowly. “This fight isn’t worth the dragon’s horde. Have a drink, or go. I’d rather you stay here all day, drinking. My treat. I’d hate to lose a friend.”
I stood and shook my head. “Sorry, big guy. But I have something bigger even than you that I need to take care of.”
---
Stepping back into the sun made me realize how dark the Crazy Troll was. I blinked the darkness away, and took a deep breath to clear my nose.
“The smell comes on almost as strong as his presence,” Hana said.
I sighed and examined the clouds. I had to think.
“Can you do this without him?” she asked.
“It was pretty doubtful with him.”
“Didn’t you say you’d fight the dragon with a pitchfork?”
I nodded. “Yes. But I thought he’d be holding one, too. Brightness, but fighting a dragon on a whim takes a lot of preparation.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think you’re preparing enough. Gotta give the dough time to rise.”
I coughed, drew up my shoulders and puffed out my chest just a little. I spoke with more confidence than I felt. “We’ve got a dragon to slay. And one more stop to make, plus the tinker, before we head that way. Let's not delay this any longer."
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
6 Lessons I Learned from Doctor Who
1) Act With Confidence
I’ve seen the doctor walk onto a military base and order the men around. They obey him, because he has the attitude and demeanor of a leader. They obey him because they believe he is the leader.
Sometimes you need to be somewhere. Sometimes, you need something to happen. What do you do when others don’t believe you belong there? Act as though you do. Believe in what you’re saying. Walk and talk like you are a leader and people will follow.
Other times, you need to slip in under the radar, avoid being seen by those who would harm you. Don’t shake in fear, even if you feel it. Remain confident even then, proceed as you must to get things done.
2) Smile in the Face of Danger
What does the doctor do but smile when danger arises? Okay, yes, he scowls sometimes. But even when he’s angry, even when he is incredibly cheesed off, that grimace of determination lights a spark in his eye. Maybe that spark isn’t a smile, but it can sometimes feel like one.
Danger is there, it’s always present. It can be quite exciting, if you have the mindset decided that you will enjoy it. And again, here comes fear. But smile in the face of danger; a good smile is a great way to combat the fear, to fight the negativity that might otherwise stop you.
Consider this, when danger arises. Can you not do anything? You cannot? Then why not smile and get what joy out of the situation that you can. Can you do something to improve it? Fantastic! Why not smile about your impending victory? You may not always be able to smile of course, but if you can smile and mean it, smile from deep within, then won’t your life be that much the better, that much more enjoyed?
3) Ideas are Powerful
The doctor constantly saves the day with ideas. He constantly saves the world from ideas. Ideas are the source of the greatest evils and the greatest joys. Ideas fill us up and drag us down. Ideas can topple empires. They can inspire people to courage, creativity, and monumental stupidity. They change people, worlds, and the course of history.
Now, what can be more powerful than that? Try to answer without coming up with an idea.
4) Ordinary People are Tremendously Important
What is there to fight for, if not ordinary people? Who lays down their lives in a war, if not ordinary people? Who would follow a great leader, who can band together to end darkness, and who fills the ranks, the ever-growing ranks of humanity? Ordinary people.
One more or less can, and often does, make a huge difference. One ordinary person can become an amazing person. Two ordinary people can start a movement, spark a revolution. It often takes only one ordinary person to save a life,; one ordinary person doing something, or even just being somewhere at the right time.
5) We All Need a Hand Sometimes
The doctor travels across the cosmos, across time. He hops, occasionally, from one dimension to the next. He’s seen the destruction of planets, and their births. He has seen the greatest and the worst that the universe has to offer. And yet, the one thing he cannot do is face it alone. Not for long, not with any measure of joy.
We need a hand to hold, someone to guide us through the dark night. For what would be the point of the greatest journey, if there wasn’t someone to share it with or tell the story to? You can climb a mountain and see the world from its summit; but will you forget, if you find nobody to share the memory with?
And when tragedy strikes, when we lose what is most important to us, what remedy can there be but in a compassionate presence?
6) Don't Mess With Rose
Seriously, I’m not even joking on this one. You can make the doctor angry about just about anything else, you may get a warning shot or a chance to turn back from your evil ways. But mess with Rose, and it's all gone. If he doesn’t tear apart the cosmos to set her safe again, he’ll tear you apart. Failing that, Rose will find a way to tear you apart to get back to the doctor.
Whatever other mistakes you might make in your life: Don’t. Mess. With. Rose.
I’ve seen the doctor walk onto a military base and order the men around. They obey him, because he has the attitude and demeanor of a leader. They obey him because they believe he is the leader.
Sometimes you need to be somewhere. Sometimes, you need something to happen. What do you do when others don’t believe you belong there? Act as though you do. Believe in what you’re saying. Walk and talk like you are a leader and people will follow.
Other times, you need to slip in under the radar, avoid being seen by those who would harm you. Don’t shake in fear, even if you feel it. Remain confident even then, proceed as you must to get things done.
2) Smile in the Face of Danger
What does the doctor do but smile when danger arises? Okay, yes, he scowls sometimes. But even when he’s angry, even when he is incredibly cheesed off, that grimace of determination lights a spark in his eye. Maybe that spark isn’t a smile, but it can sometimes feel like one.
Danger is there, it’s always present. It can be quite exciting, if you have the mindset decided that you will enjoy it. And again, here comes fear. But smile in the face of danger; a good smile is a great way to combat the fear, to fight the negativity that might otherwise stop you.
Consider this, when danger arises. Can you not do anything? You cannot? Then why not smile and get what joy out of the situation that you can. Can you do something to improve it? Fantastic! Why not smile about your impending victory? You may not always be able to smile of course, but if you can smile and mean it, smile from deep within, then won’t your life be that much the better, that much more enjoyed?
3) Ideas are Powerful
The doctor constantly saves the day with ideas. He constantly saves the world from ideas. Ideas are the source of the greatest evils and the greatest joys. Ideas fill us up and drag us down. Ideas can topple empires. They can inspire people to courage, creativity, and monumental stupidity. They change people, worlds, and the course of history.
Now, what can be more powerful than that? Try to answer without coming up with an idea.
4) Ordinary People are Tremendously Important
What is there to fight for, if not ordinary people? Who lays down their lives in a war, if not ordinary people? Who would follow a great leader, who can band together to end darkness, and who fills the ranks, the ever-growing ranks of humanity? Ordinary people.
One more or less can, and often does, make a huge difference. One ordinary person can become an amazing person. Two ordinary people can start a movement, spark a revolution. It often takes only one ordinary person to save a life,; one ordinary person doing something, or even just being somewhere at the right time.
5) We All Need a Hand Sometimes
The doctor travels across the cosmos, across time. He hops, occasionally, from one dimension to the next. He’s seen the destruction of planets, and their births. He has seen the greatest and the worst that the universe has to offer. And yet, the one thing he cannot do is face it alone. Not for long, not with any measure of joy.
We need a hand to hold, someone to guide us through the dark night. For what would be the point of the greatest journey, if there wasn’t someone to share it with or tell the story to? You can climb a mountain and see the world from its summit; but will you forget, if you find nobody to share the memory with?
And when tragedy strikes, when we lose what is most important to us, what remedy can there be but in a compassionate presence?
6) Don't Mess With Rose
Seriously, I’m not even joking on this one. You can make the doctor angry about just about anything else, you may get a warning shot or a chance to turn back from your evil ways. But mess with Rose, and it's all gone. If he doesn’t tear apart the cosmos to set her safe again, he’ll tear you apart. Failing that, Rose will find a way to tear you apart to get back to the doctor.
Whatever other mistakes you might make in your life: Don’t. Mess. With. Rose.
Monday, August 19, 2013
New Posting Schedule
I mentioned on my Google+ page, but I decided I should mention it here, as well.
Now that I have a set of entries that you can look at to see the kind of posts I will be doing, I am moving from an (almost) daily schedule to twice weekly. I will have a "Story Saturday" where I will post short fiction (such as the Dragon Valley stories), and a Geek Tuesday, where I write about topics of geek interest, such as Dungeons and Dragons, superheroes, and all things Whedon. Meanwhile, I will also be looking at ways to improve the blog.
Stay tuned!
(PS, this is not my Tuesday entry.)
Now that I have a set of entries that you can look at to see the kind of posts I will be doing, I am moving from an (almost) daily schedule to twice weekly. I will have a "Story Saturday" where I will post short fiction (such as the Dragon Valley stories), and a Geek Tuesday, where I write about topics of geek interest, such as Dungeons and Dragons, superheroes, and all things Whedon. Meanwhile, I will also be looking at ways to improve the blog.
Stay tuned!
(PS, this is not my Tuesday entry.)
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Dragon Valley: The Cleric
You can see the first Dragon Valley Installment here, the most recent previous installment here, and the next one here.
“All I'm saying is, you don't know how much that creature needs to eat, or how often. He might not be back to bother anyone, and you're just wasting your time.”
“Hana, I saw it. It didn't leave because it was full; it made sure it had eaten every sheep.”
"Why didn't it take you?"
"I don't know."
My sister and I had just arrived at the grounds for the House of the Gods. The building was a square ring around a central courtyard, with access to the courtyard via a large archway. There was a tower at each corner housing individual altars to specific gods.
“How did you get that fine sword from Newl? You don't have anything else to give him-unless...Zed, what did you trade for that sword?”
I took a second to answer. “Extra iron. Tools. A couple of pans.”
She stopped just short of the building. I did not.
“Zed, that sword is worth more than iron. Newl doesn't just give things away.”
I stepped into the courtyard where most services were held. It had a large roof unattached to the building to protect against rain. In the winters, regular services were more sparsely attended, and held inside.
“I gave him grandma's silverware.”
I could feel her glare on the back of my neck.
“That wasn't given to you to give away.”
“I needed a better sword than I have. A longer sword, sharper.”
I headed to the tower of the Living Gods. With no current clerics of the Noble Gods, I figured they were the ones that might have the most help to offer. The Artifice Gods mostly dealt with crafting things; the Old Gods were unpredictable when it came to...well, really, when it came to anything. The Living Gods – now they understood death and risk. Hana caught up with me before I went inside.
It took a few minutes and a couple flights of stairs to find Domin Rafe kneeling and praying at an altar. I waited for him to stand and turn. He had brown hair and looked healthy for his age. His robes where white with blue trimming. He smiled at us and nodded his head.
His voice was deep and rich. “How may I help you, Zed and Hana?”
I bowed and answered. “We seek the blessings of the gods to slay the dragon.”
Domin Rafe brought his arms together under his sleeves. He took a deep breath, pondering us for a moment. He looked me over, his calm eyes judging me for some quality beyond the physical before he responded.
“The Lord of the Valley frowns on such dangerous ventures.”
Hana responded, “The gods are higher than he.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you a fighter? I thought you were a baker. Delicious pies, by the way.”
She shook her head. Domin Rafe thought for another minute before speaking again.
“The dragon has not harmed anyone yet.”
I shook my head. “It has. It may not have injured anyone, but it ate my flock. It leaves poverty and hunger in its wake.”
He nodded. “I wish the soldiers would face down the threat; but if they all fought, there would be none of them left in the valley. Do you know how to use that sword?”
“I trained with a different sword, but I fight well.”
"I see. And Hana, what do you bring to this endeavor."
"I...I bring insight and common sense."
He took a deep breath. "Common sense is not so common, especially among dragon slayers." He locked eyes with each of us in turn.
"And how do you intend to slay this beast, that can eat your flock and, it sounds, not be sated?"
“I will approach, then I will take this sword and drive it deep into the monster's belly.”
Rafe nodded. “That's a simple plan. This fight is foolishness. You will, in all likelihood, die. Burning. Smothering. Broken bones. Of course, if you're unlucky, it may let you live with these injuries."
I ground my teeth while he spoke, and jumped on my chance to speak. "We should let it eat our sheep? Then eat us? Perhaps we should simply walk to the creature and all bow before it."
Hana's hand touched mine. I let go my teeth and took a deep breath. Rafe spoke again.
"You are a practical man, and hot-headed. You are too direct for a fight like this. Did you lead men in your time as a soldier?"
I nodded. "A few."
"Mm. I'd wager you lost a couple of them, is that right?"
I could feel the heat growing on my face. I nodded.
"Always took the direct approach?" Again I nodded.
"Perhaps what you need is a tactician. Somebody who's trained in some type of combat with creatures and monsters. Perhaps you need not I, but hunter Grem."
"Do we have the gods' blessing?" Hana asked.
Domin Rafe looked at her. His eyes unfocused and his whole face tightened. A shadow passed over my shoulder. I looked behind me, but there was nobody there. I looked back, and Rafe was staring into my eyes. I shivered, though it was warm.
"The gods will not dissuade you from your quest. They do urge caution and pass on a favor."
He reached up and touched my forehead. I could feel a...well, a sensation. Almost like heat, with hair standing on end and a tingling all over my skin. The physical sensation passed, but I felt as though an emotional sensation was left within me.
"You are granted to cheat death once. When the Raven comes for you, it will forget your name, and pass you by. You will know when that moment occurs."
I thanked him and nodded. I was uncertain what else to say.
He turned to Hana. "You will need a weapon. We have a mace that might serve you well. Should you survive, you may return it here. And, should you feel inclined, pies are an excellent form of gratitude." He grinned.
"What about him?" Hana asked. "His sword is nice, but he hasn't used it before."
He held out his hand. "Let me see it, please"
I drew my sword and held the blade flat, handle to him. He gently took it and held his face close to the blade, running his eyes along the flat side.
"Well, gods preserve us. I believe this sword may have been destined for you. It won't make you hit faster or better, but it knows you. It's already speaking to your heart. It will move how you direct it, as though it were your own hand. Listen to it, and it will serve you well."
He held the sword out to me, but awkwardly; he still held onto the handle.
"Excuse me, Domin, but - "
"Oh! Sorry, I have sight, not swordsmanship." He held the sword as I had held it toward him. I took it and slid it back into its scabbard.
He coughed. "Yes, well. Let's go get that mace, shall we?"
“All I'm saying is, you don't know how much that creature needs to eat, or how often. He might not be back to bother anyone, and you're just wasting your time.”
“Hana, I saw it. It didn't leave because it was full; it made sure it had eaten every sheep.”
"Why didn't it take you?"
"I don't know."
My sister and I had just arrived at the grounds for the House of the Gods. The building was a square ring around a central courtyard, with access to the courtyard via a large archway. There was a tower at each corner housing individual altars to specific gods.
“How did you get that fine sword from Newl? You don't have anything else to give him-unless...Zed, what did you trade for that sword?”
I took a second to answer. “Extra iron. Tools. A couple of pans.”
She stopped just short of the building. I did not.
“Zed, that sword is worth more than iron. Newl doesn't just give things away.”
I stepped into the courtyard where most services were held. It had a large roof unattached to the building to protect against rain. In the winters, regular services were more sparsely attended, and held inside.
“I gave him grandma's silverware.”
I could feel her glare on the back of my neck.
“That wasn't given to you to give away.”
“I needed a better sword than I have. A longer sword, sharper.”
I headed to the tower of the Living Gods. With no current clerics of the Noble Gods, I figured they were the ones that might have the most help to offer. The Artifice Gods mostly dealt with crafting things; the Old Gods were unpredictable when it came to...well, really, when it came to anything. The Living Gods – now they understood death and risk. Hana caught up with me before I went inside.
It took a few minutes and a couple flights of stairs to find Domin Rafe kneeling and praying at an altar. I waited for him to stand and turn. He had brown hair and looked healthy for his age. His robes where white with blue trimming. He smiled at us and nodded his head.
His voice was deep and rich. “How may I help you, Zed and Hana?”
I bowed and answered. “We seek the blessings of the gods to slay the dragon.”
Domin Rafe brought his arms together under his sleeves. He took a deep breath, pondering us for a moment. He looked me over, his calm eyes judging me for some quality beyond the physical before he responded.
“The Lord of the Valley frowns on such dangerous ventures.”
Hana responded, “The gods are higher than he.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you a fighter? I thought you were a baker. Delicious pies, by the way.”
She shook her head. Domin Rafe thought for another minute before speaking again.
“The dragon has not harmed anyone yet.”
I shook my head. “It has. It may not have injured anyone, but it ate my flock. It leaves poverty and hunger in its wake.”
He nodded. “I wish the soldiers would face down the threat; but if they all fought, there would be none of them left in the valley. Do you know how to use that sword?”
“I trained with a different sword, but I fight well.”
"I see. And Hana, what do you bring to this endeavor."
"I...I bring insight and common sense."
He took a deep breath. "Common sense is not so common, especially among dragon slayers." He locked eyes with each of us in turn.
"And how do you intend to slay this beast, that can eat your flock and, it sounds, not be sated?"
“I will approach, then I will take this sword and drive it deep into the monster's belly.”
Rafe nodded. “That's a simple plan. This fight is foolishness. You will, in all likelihood, die. Burning. Smothering. Broken bones. Of course, if you're unlucky, it may let you live with these injuries."
I ground my teeth while he spoke, and jumped on my chance to speak. "We should let it eat our sheep? Then eat us? Perhaps we should simply walk to the creature and all bow before it."
Hana's hand touched mine. I let go my teeth and took a deep breath. Rafe spoke again.
"You are a practical man, and hot-headed. You are too direct for a fight like this. Did you lead men in your time as a soldier?"
I nodded. "A few."
"Mm. I'd wager you lost a couple of them, is that right?"
I could feel the heat growing on my face. I nodded.
"Always took the direct approach?" Again I nodded.
"Perhaps what you need is a tactician. Somebody who's trained in some type of combat with creatures and monsters. Perhaps you need not I, but hunter Grem."
"Do we have the gods' blessing?" Hana asked.
Domin Rafe looked at her. His eyes unfocused and his whole face tightened. A shadow passed over my shoulder. I looked behind me, but there was nobody there. I looked back, and Rafe was staring into my eyes. I shivered, though it was warm.
"The gods will not dissuade you from your quest. They do urge caution and pass on a favor."
He reached up and touched my forehead. I could feel a...well, a sensation. Almost like heat, with hair standing on end and a tingling all over my skin. The physical sensation passed, but I felt as though an emotional sensation was left within me.
"You are granted to cheat death once. When the Raven comes for you, it will forget your name, and pass you by. You will know when that moment occurs."
I thanked him and nodded. I was uncertain what else to say.
He turned to Hana. "You will need a weapon. We have a mace that might serve you well. Should you survive, you may return it here. And, should you feel inclined, pies are an excellent form of gratitude." He grinned.
"What about him?" Hana asked. "His sword is nice, but he hasn't used it before."
He held out his hand. "Let me see it, please"
I drew my sword and held the blade flat, handle to him. He gently took it and held his face close to the blade, running his eyes along the flat side.
"Well, gods preserve us. I believe this sword may have been destined for you. It won't make you hit faster or better, but it knows you. It's already speaking to your heart. It will move how you direct it, as though it were your own hand. Listen to it, and it will serve you well."
He held the sword out to me, but awkwardly; he still held onto the handle.
"Excuse me, Domin, but - "
"Oh! Sorry, I have sight, not swordsmanship." He held the sword as I had held it toward him. I took it and slid it back into its scabbard.
He coughed. "Yes, well. Let's go get that mace, shall we?"
Thursday, August 15, 2013
My First Computer/Console Games
I had computers almost as early as I can remember. I remember learning math on the computer more than I remember learning it at school. I have limited programming experience, but my first one was typing a book into the computer. It had maybe ten pages, with two sentences each. Press "Enter" to read the next page. Not a complex program, I grant you. And yes, plagiarism. Give me a break, I was eight.
I was ten when we got a Nintendo. We only ever had a handful of games for it, but I played the heck out of Super Mario Brothers, when I could pry the controller away from my brother. Later, my sisters and became hooked on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles game. At the time, it was one of the toughest games I had played. But I remember beating it with Donatello - maybe it was Michaelangelo. Tetris came later for me. It took a few years before I really enjoyed Tetris, however. I think my brain just wasn't ready for that type of puzzle.
I played a bunch of computer games. I can't remember many of them in great detail, except for "So You Want to be a Hero" and it's sequel, "Quest for Glory 2: Trial by Fire". My favorite computer games ever. And they were each originally split between several 3.5" disks. Yes children, I am that old. They were my older brother's disks, and he let me and my sister's play the game, though we had to share a character.
They were my first role-playing game. You could choose a class, interact with people by typing 'ask about' or 'tell about'. You could click to interact with things, or type what you wanted to do, such as "Pick Nose". I was amused by the responses in both. If you play the game, just give it a try. (Save it first.) They were funny and adventurous, full of interesting characters. It was such an influence on me, in fact, that I recently ran a campaign based on the first, and am working out how to lead it into the second game.
It also inspired me at that time to want to learn how to program games onto the computer. (I had let my mad skills decay since I was eight.) I picked up a few lessons from my brother, and even wrote a few basic games. But I had my eyes on a huge world I had mapped out using two sheets of graph paper. I was in high school before I finished a stripped down version of it. It was a castle with 16 rooms. You had to find out who stole the jewels and return them to the king. There were five or six NPCs, very limited interactions, and no inventory (Except, of course, for whether you had the jewels themselves). I never claimed to be a genius programmer. My brother is the programming genius in our family.
When I was thirteen, my computer broke. I didn't get another one for two or three years. The internet was new and all dial-up at the time. The first thing I did? Install Quest For Glory II: Trial by Fire. I didn't have a copy of the first game.
I was ten when we got a Nintendo. We only ever had a handful of games for it, but I played the heck out of Super Mario Brothers, when I could pry the controller away from my brother. Later, my sisters and became hooked on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles game. At the time, it was one of the toughest games I had played. But I remember beating it with Donatello - maybe it was Michaelangelo. Tetris came later for me. It took a few years before I really enjoyed Tetris, however. I think my brain just wasn't ready for that type of puzzle.
I played a bunch of computer games. I can't remember many of them in great detail, except for "So You Want to be a Hero" and it's sequel, "Quest for Glory 2: Trial by Fire". My favorite computer games ever. And they were each originally split between several 3.5" disks. Yes children, I am that old. They were my older brother's disks, and he let me and my sister's play the game, though we had to share a character.
They were my first role-playing game. You could choose a class, interact with people by typing 'ask about' or 'tell about'. You could click to interact with things, or type what you wanted to do, such as "Pick Nose". I was amused by the responses in both. If you play the game, just give it a try. (Save it first.) They were funny and adventurous, full of interesting characters. It was such an influence on me, in fact, that I recently ran a campaign based on the first, and am working out how to lead it into the second game.
It also inspired me at that time to want to learn how to program games onto the computer. (I had let my mad skills decay since I was eight.) I picked up a few lessons from my brother, and even wrote a few basic games. But I had my eyes on a huge world I had mapped out using two sheets of graph paper. I was in high school before I finished a stripped down version of it. It was a castle with 16 rooms. You had to find out who stole the jewels and return them to the king. There were five or six NPCs, very limited interactions, and no inventory (Except, of course, for whether you had the jewels themselves). I never claimed to be a genius programmer. My brother is the programming genius in our family.
When I was thirteen, my computer broke. I didn't get another one for two or three years. The internet was new and all dial-up at the time. The first thing I did? Install Quest For Glory II: Trial by Fire. I didn't have a copy of the first game.
My next post will return to Dragon Valley.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Archetypes: The Scarecrow and The Damsel
There are certain types of character that recur many times in legends and fiction. These archetypes may enter fiction to express something in the author’s mind, as shorthand for character or story development, or to conform to the expectations of the audience. It could be intentional or accidental.
When an archetype appears in a story, it influences a reader's or audience's expectations about the character or story. What an author intends, or what an audience expects, may change drastically over time. I’m going to quickly talk about two that I’ve noticed, and mention how they show in somewhat modern stories.
The first is the Scarecrow. (For those familiar with Jung, I do not mean that archetype. And for those familiar with Batman, I'm not talking about that scarecrow either.) In a story, the Scarecrow is a character, usually artificial, who appears foolish or unintelligent but is a guide for the main character, helping them understand a strange world.
The Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz is a major example; he complains of lacking brains, but helps guide Dorothy to the Emerald city, and shows her how to survive in Oz. Gollum, while not quite artificial, is a highly altered character that guides Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom.
There’s the giant computer in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy which gives the answer ‘42’. Yes, that computer is intelligent, but it's also a little foolish. It gives an answer without knowing the question, and watches TV rather than using its vast intellect to do...well, anything. But it does provide clues which propel the story forward.
R2D2 in the original Star Wars is another excellent example. Yes, he’s intelligent and capable; but the only one that can understand him treats him like a fool. And he does things that seem very random, like running into the desert alone. But he brings Obi Wan into the story, and holds the information about the Death Star safe for the final sequence of events.
The other archetype I am going to mention is is the Damsel, which springs from the Damsel in Distress. The Damsel changed drastically since she dropped "in Distress". The Damsel in Distress needs rescuing. She is often the romantic interest and "prize" for a male hero. The Damsel, however, is capable of rescuing herself and/or others. While the she is still generally involved in a relationship involving romance, it is as an equal partner rather than as a prize. Buffy is an excellent example of the Damsel; she doesn't get rescued - she does the rescuing.
In Harry Potter, Hermione seems set to start as a Damsel in Distress when Harry and Ron try to rescue her from a troll. But she quickly shows herself to be the modern Damsel through the series, taking an active stance in rescuing herself, her friends, and the world.
Princess Leia is a bit more complicated. She has to be rescued, first from the Death Star and later from Jabba the Hutt. On the other hand, by the third movie, she is rescuing Hans. She is presented as being a rebel leader, but is rarely shown in the active role. However, even when she needs to be rescued, she participates in the rescue and shows some level of competency.
I think that this is because Star Wars came out when the Damsel archetype was just beginning to shed "in Distress". Lucas was trying to figure out how to portray the Archetype. I think he did a good job for the day and age it came out, though it is somewhat backwards for the Twenty-First Century.
These are only two of a great many archetypes, and just my take on them, at that. I hope you find them interesting, or even helpful if you are writing or analysing a story.
When an archetype appears in a story, it influences a reader's or audience's expectations about the character or story. What an author intends, or what an audience expects, may change drastically over time. I’m going to quickly talk about two that I’ve noticed, and mention how they show in somewhat modern stories.
The first is the Scarecrow. (For those familiar with Jung, I do not mean that archetype. And for those familiar with Batman, I'm not talking about that scarecrow either.) In a story, the Scarecrow is a character, usually artificial, who appears foolish or unintelligent but is a guide for the main character, helping them understand a strange world.
The Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz is a major example; he complains of lacking brains, but helps guide Dorothy to the Emerald city, and shows her how to survive in Oz. Gollum, while not quite artificial, is a highly altered character that guides Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom.
There’s the giant computer in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy which gives the answer ‘42’. Yes, that computer is intelligent, but it's also a little foolish. It gives an answer without knowing the question, and watches TV rather than using its vast intellect to do...well, anything. But it does provide clues which propel the story forward.
R2D2 in the original Star Wars is another excellent example. Yes, he’s intelligent and capable; but the only one that can understand him treats him like a fool. And he does things that seem very random, like running into the desert alone. But he brings Obi Wan into the story, and holds the information about the Death Star safe for the final sequence of events.
The other archetype I am going to mention is is the Damsel, which springs from the Damsel in Distress. The Damsel changed drastically since she dropped "in Distress". The Damsel in Distress needs rescuing. She is often the romantic interest and "prize" for a male hero. The Damsel, however, is capable of rescuing herself and/or others. While the she is still generally involved in a relationship involving romance, it is as an equal partner rather than as a prize. Buffy is an excellent example of the Damsel; she doesn't get rescued - she does the rescuing.
In Harry Potter, Hermione seems set to start as a Damsel in Distress when Harry and Ron try to rescue her from a troll. But she quickly shows herself to be the modern Damsel through the series, taking an active stance in rescuing herself, her friends, and the world.
Princess Leia is a bit more complicated. She has to be rescued, first from the Death Star and later from Jabba the Hutt. On the other hand, by the third movie, she is rescuing Hans. She is presented as being a rebel leader, but is rarely shown in the active role. However, even when she needs to be rescued, she participates in the rescue and shows some level of competency.
I think that this is because Star Wars came out when the Damsel archetype was just beginning to shed "in Distress". Lucas was trying to figure out how to portray the Archetype. I think he did a good job for the day and age it came out, though it is somewhat backwards for the Twenty-First Century.
These are only two of a great many archetypes, and just my take on them, at that. I hope you find them interesting, or even helpful if you are writing or analysing a story.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
7 Lessons WotC Learned for D&D Next
I reviewed D&D Next previously, but since there's a new packet with big changes, I'm going to review lessons Wizards of the Coast seems to have learned from previous editions, and what edition those lessons came from. When possible, I'll leave alone things mentioned in my previous entry.
As I've said before, I have played some 2nd Edition, but I'm most experienced with 3rd and 4th edition, so most of these lessons in relation to 3rd (including 3.5) and 4th. Have they learned more from 2nd and earlier editions? Most likely.
1) Simple Stats (2nd/3rd)
Ability checks, skills, and saving throws are done directly from the 6 core abilities in Next. This hearkens back to some of the simplicity of 2nd Edition. Special skill modifiers are not part of the core game, but will be added in an optional module. [Update: The latest update packet has a proficiency bonus that applies to attacks, skills, and anything else the character is proficient in.]
2) Character Knowledge/Fields of Lore (3rd/4th)
Players want to know what their characters know. Dungeonmasters want to know what the characters know. To avoid giving everyone the same chance to know everything, Fields of Lore (Similar to Knowledge skills in 3rd) provide bonuses in their given area of expertise. [Update: Fields of Lore are part of skills in the most recent playtest packet..]
3) Leveling Means Something (4th)
As in 4th Edition, every class gets something each level in Next – such as new class features, ability score increases, or a new level of spells.
4) D20 + Modifier vs DC (2nd/3rd)
In 2nd Edition, you have to roll over a number for some actions, under for others. You rolled percentile dice sometimes, instead of the d20. And trying to hit someone was even more confusing, though some people (like Chad Perrin) feel it was actually fairly simple. (And the way Chad explains it does make it sound easier.)
Rather than trying to roll under your ability score or consulting charts for every action, 3rd Edition made the same ability modifiers for all ability scores. All rolls – saving throws, skill checks, attack rolls – become attempts to roll over a target number, rather than sometimes trying to get a lower number. Even THAC0 was gone; attacks were now the same type of roll as any other, with armor class being a target number. D&D Next is keeping that simplicity alive.
5) Power Bloat (3rd/4th)
WotC has learned that there are oddities that come with modifiers that rapidly increase with level. There are questions of how the world can function without player adventurers. There's the problem of magic items and feats being used just to get ever-higher bonuses, when they could be something unique and memorable. As players level up, they discover that all locks are magically trapped, wooden doors are now adamantium, and the king has hired some impressively outfitted guards.
So D&D Next is limiting power bloat. Increasing attack bonuses, while present, are kept low. Armor class is similarly kept low. What's this do? Well, it means that you can reasonably face a horde of monsters at higher level that presented you with a challenge one-on-one at lower levels. It means that rallying the city to fight a dragon becomes a real option.
And while it does get easier to bust down wooden doors while you level, the higher levels don't make it feel like the average person should be living in the medieval equivalent of a bomb shelter.
6) Perfect Balance isn't so Perfect (4th)
4th Edition made sure that every character received something at every level. They made sure that everybody had a specific role in combat. And while it was very balanced, it was often very bland. D&D Next is compensating for this by injecting more flavor into every class, and more options into every character.
7) Multiclassing is Awesome. And Dangerous. And Awesome. (3rd)
It's no secret that I'm a fan of multiclassing; I've only twice created characters that were not multiclassed. And when a fellow player brought in Dungeonscape, he looked right at me and said “I found a you class!” (Dungeonscape holds the Factotum, a Jack-of-all trades class which, unlike the bard, doesn't have to haul around an instrument or sing to activate his abilities.)
And multiclassing was awesome. When they limited its options in Fourth Edition, I felt like there was something missing from the system. (I still multiclassed, I was just less satisfied.) But I can understand why they wanted to cap the options: In 3rd Edition, you take a level of fighter to get weapons and armor proficiencies; a level of monk for unarmed abilities, and rogue for trapfinding, sneak attacks, and skill points. And they're just the core classes. And that's without messing with the balance for base attack bonus (which usually wound up low) and saving throws (which often wound up high), making for a character so unbalanced, they could prove you weren't dreaming. (Inception reference!)
Multiclassing is set to appear in Next in an upcoming playtest packet as a valid option. According to to Legends and Lore, it will resemble the beloved multiclassing options of 3rd Edition, while making the numbers more dependent on character level rather than class levels. Even if, Wizards forbid, they did not include multi-classing in the final core rules, there are feat and character options that simulate some of the effects of multiclassing. [Update: Multiclassing is in the most recent packet. They've done a fair job of it; dipping into a class will delay ability score increases/feats, but will not change your proficiency bonus that can apply to attacks, skills, and occasionally, saves.]
Maybe I am dreaming...
As I've said before, I have played some 2nd Edition, but I'm most experienced with 3rd and 4th edition, so most of these lessons in relation to 3rd (including 3.5) and 4th. Have they learned more from 2nd and earlier editions? Most likely.
1) Simple Stats (2nd/3rd)
Ability checks, skills, and saving throws are done directly from the 6 core abilities in Next. This hearkens back to some of the simplicity of 2nd Edition. Special skill modifiers are not part of the core game, but will be added in an optional module. [Update: The latest update packet has a proficiency bonus that applies to attacks, skills, and anything else the character is proficient in.]
2) Character Knowledge/Fields of Lore (3rd/4th)
Players want to know what their characters know. Dungeonmasters want to know what the characters know. To avoid giving everyone the same chance to know everything, Fields of Lore (Similar to Knowledge skills in 3rd) provide bonuses in their given area of expertise. [Update: Fields of Lore are part of skills in the most recent playtest packet..]
3) Leveling Means Something (4th)
As in 4th Edition, every class gets something each level in Next – such as new class features, ability score increases, or a new level of spells.
4) D20 + Modifier vs DC (2nd/3rd)
In 2nd Edition, you have to roll over a number for some actions, under for others. You rolled percentile dice sometimes, instead of the d20. And trying to hit someone was even more confusing, though some people (like Chad Perrin) feel it was actually fairly simple. (And the way Chad explains it does make it sound easier.)
Rather than trying to roll under your ability score or consulting charts for every action, 3rd Edition made the same ability modifiers for all ability scores. All rolls – saving throws, skill checks, attack rolls – become attempts to roll over a target number, rather than sometimes trying to get a lower number. Even THAC0 was gone; attacks were now the same type of roll as any other, with armor class being a target number. D&D Next is keeping that simplicity alive.
5) Power Bloat (3rd/4th)
WotC has learned that there are oddities that come with modifiers that rapidly increase with level. There are questions of how the world can function without player adventurers. There's the problem of magic items and feats being used just to get ever-higher bonuses, when they could be something unique and memorable. As players level up, they discover that all locks are magically trapped, wooden doors are now adamantium, and the king has hired some impressively outfitted guards.
So D&D Next is limiting power bloat. Increasing attack bonuses, while present, are kept low. Armor class is similarly kept low. What's this do? Well, it means that you can reasonably face a horde of monsters at higher level that presented you with a challenge one-on-one at lower levels. It means that rallying the city to fight a dragon becomes a real option.
And while it does get easier to bust down wooden doors while you level, the higher levels don't make it feel like the average person should be living in the medieval equivalent of a bomb shelter.
6) Perfect Balance isn't so Perfect (4th)
4th Edition made sure that every character received something at every level. They made sure that everybody had a specific role in combat. And while it was very balanced, it was often very bland. D&D Next is compensating for this by injecting more flavor into every class, and more options into every character.
7) Multiclassing is Awesome. And Dangerous. And Awesome. (3rd)
It's no secret that I'm a fan of multiclassing; I've only twice created characters that were not multiclassed. And when a fellow player brought in Dungeonscape, he looked right at me and said “I found a you class!” (Dungeonscape holds the Factotum, a Jack-of-all trades class which, unlike the bard, doesn't have to haul around an instrument or sing to activate his abilities.)
And multiclassing was awesome. When they limited its options in Fourth Edition, I felt like there was something missing from the system. (I still multiclassed, I was just less satisfied.) But I can understand why they wanted to cap the options: In 3rd Edition, you take a level of fighter to get weapons and armor proficiencies; a level of monk for unarmed abilities, and rogue for trapfinding, sneak attacks, and skill points. And they're just the core classes. And that's without messing with the balance for base attack bonus (which usually wound up low) and saving throws (which often wound up high), making for a character so unbalanced, they could prove you weren't dreaming. (Inception reference!)
Multiclassing is set to appear in Next in an upcoming playtest packet as a valid option. According to to Legends and Lore, it will resemble the beloved multiclassing options of 3rd Edition, while making the numbers more dependent on character level rather than class levels. Even if, Wizards forbid, they did not include multi-classing in the final core rules, there are feat and character options that simulate some of the effects of multiclassing. [Update: Multiclassing is in the most recent packet. They've done a fair job of it; dipping into a class will delay ability score increases/feats, but will not change your proficiency bonus that can apply to attacks, skills, and occasionally, saves.]
Maybe I am dreaming...
Monday, August 12, 2013
Dragon Valley: The Baker
This is the second Dragon Valley installment. You can see the first one here, and the next one here.
I walked into my sister's bakery with the sword peace-bound and mostly hidden under my long coat. It was early morning still, and the smell of pastries and bread was already thick in the air. She was just bringing a tray of breads out and setting them on the shelves. She was a strong woman, with muscles. She was not as portly as one might expect a baker to be; she loved pastries, but resisted them well.
“Zed! Well, you're here early. How's the family?”
“We're all alive, though the oldest is a little shaken up.”
“Dragon? I heard it was down your way. Bero! Get those buns out here!”
Her younger apprentice emerged from the kitchen door carrying a tray of rolls and buns. He was a young man with his hair all up in a white hat. He didn't even try to resist pastries.
“Sorry, mistress Hana.” He huffed over to the shelves and began to empty the tray onto them.
“And remember the breadbaskets.”
“No mistress. I mean yes, mistress. I'll get right on it.” He finished with the rolls and went back to the kitchen.
“What brings you, Zed? Need some bread?” She picked up a loaf and laughed at her little rhyme. As though she had just thought of it today.
“I'm going to kill the dragon.”
The loaf of bread was suddenly flying at me. I ducked to the side, but it caught me on the shoulder.
“You can't dodge a loaf of bread, but you think you can dodge dragon breath? You gone daft?” She asked.
“No. No, I'm no fool.”
“Not what it looks like from my eyes,” she said, and walked over to the buns.
“I'm not. I bought a good sword, I'm going to get some help from-”
“A sword? Must be Newl, the little rodent. The other one'd charge more than you can afford.”
“Hana! I'm going. I'd be going without the sword, and told him as much.”
She grabbed three rolls and threw them rapidly at me. I managed to dodge them, though she's actually a good aim.
Bero emerged from the kitchen with another tray of bread.
“Bero – are all the baskets ready?”
“No, mistress, but we're opening soon. The displays - “
“Baskets first- they're already paid for. And when Stem gets in, I want to speak with him.”
“Yes, mistress.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.
She sighed and grabbed one hand with the other. I know my sister; that meant she was trying to avoid rubbing away a headache. “Did you even speak to a cleric? To Lord Maley? Hell, you can't go alone.”
“No, not planning to, and I'm going to ask some people to join me.”
“Fine, I'll come. Always had to watch out for you and – tell me you packed something to eat?”
She walked toward me, a hard glint in her eyes.
I rolled my eyes. “I'm stopping at my house on the way to hunt the dragon."
“Yes, well. We have a few stops to make first. The temple, cause I'll not let you go without the gods' consent. There's a tinker in town with interesting items, we should talk to him. Maley, cause he has guards - ”
“Lord Maley would stop me. He's too afraid of attracting the monster's attention, as if we weren't going to kill it."
She wiped her hands off on her apron. “Sunshine. I was hoping to get that one past you. Alright, well who are we planning on for help?”
“Hana, I can't guarantee your safety.”
“No, I'm watching out for yours. Like always.”
“Hana, you don't know how to fight -”
“Fine, you have the fancy soldier training, you're in charge. You do the getting killed. But I'm coming with.”
I clenched my jaw shut, and met her eyes. The heat rose like we were back in the kitchen, instead of the storefront. The door to the kitchen opened and broke the silence. Hana turned to see a grown young man, more plumped by pastries than her but less so than Bero.
She spoke. "You're handling the shop today. The cookies should be finished any minute. Be in early tomorrow to run things.”
“You said that this week - ”
“Your new wife's gonna have to let go of you early for a few days. Family business came up, and I'll be gone a bit. Now go get washed up and to work.”
He nodded and slipped back into the kitchen.
She turned back to me. “There's a tinker in town. Has some interesting wares. We should find him after we stop at the temple.”
“I didn't agree to you coming, yet.”
“Yes you did. Now grab all that bread you left on the floor and bring it with us. We have people to see.”
I nodded. “Fine. But we see the dragon, you head right back home. First sign. I don't want you in danger.”
She nodded her agreement. “That's as far as I can keep you safe. I'll pack after we know this is going to happen.”
“We already – Fine. Let's get going.”
“Zed! Well, you're here early. How's the family?”
“We're all alive, though the oldest is a little shaken up.”
“Dragon? I heard it was down your way. Bero! Get those buns out here!”
Her younger apprentice emerged from the kitchen door carrying a tray of rolls and buns. He was a young man with his hair all up in a white hat. He didn't even try to resist pastries.
“Sorry, mistress Hana.” He huffed over to the shelves and began to empty the tray onto them.
“And remember the breadbaskets.”
“No mistress. I mean yes, mistress. I'll get right on it.” He finished with the rolls and went back to the kitchen.
“What brings you, Zed? Need some bread?” She picked up a loaf and laughed at her little rhyme. As though she had just thought of it today.
“I'm going to kill the dragon.”
The loaf of bread was suddenly flying at me. I ducked to the side, but it caught me on the shoulder.
“You can't dodge a loaf of bread, but you think you can dodge dragon breath? You gone daft?” She asked.
“No. No, I'm no fool.”
“Not what it looks like from my eyes,” she said, and walked over to the buns.
“I'm not. I bought a good sword, I'm going to get some help from-”
“A sword? Must be Newl, the little rodent. The other one'd charge more than you can afford.”
“Hana! I'm going. I'd be going without the sword, and told him as much.”
She grabbed three rolls and threw them rapidly at me. I managed to dodge them, though she's actually a good aim.
Bero emerged from the kitchen with another tray of bread.
“Bero – are all the baskets ready?”
“No, mistress, but we're opening soon. The displays - “
“Baskets first- they're already paid for. And when Stem gets in, I want to speak with him.”
“Yes, mistress.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.
She sighed and grabbed one hand with the other. I know my sister; that meant she was trying to avoid rubbing away a headache. “Did you even speak to a cleric? To Lord Maley? Hell, you can't go alone.”
“No, not planning to, and I'm going to ask some people to join me.”
“Fine, I'll come. Always had to watch out for you and – tell me you packed something to eat?”
She walked toward me, a hard glint in her eyes.
I rolled my eyes. “I'm stopping at my house on the way to hunt the dragon."
“Yes, well. We have a few stops to make first. The temple, cause I'll not let you go without the gods' consent. There's a tinker in town with interesting items, we should talk to him. Maley, cause he has guards - ”
“Lord Maley would stop me. He's too afraid of attracting the monster's attention, as if we weren't going to kill it."
She wiped her hands off on her apron. “Sunshine. I was hoping to get that one past you. Alright, well who are we planning on for help?”
“Hana, I can't guarantee your safety.”
“No, I'm watching out for yours. Like always.”
“Hana, you don't know how to fight -”
“Fine, you have the fancy soldier training, you're in charge. You do the getting killed. But I'm coming with.”
I clenched my jaw shut, and met her eyes. The heat rose like we were back in the kitchen, instead of the storefront. The door to the kitchen opened and broke the silence. Hana turned to see a grown young man, more plumped by pastries than her but less so than Bero.
She spoke. "You're handling the shop today. The cookies should be finished any minute. Be in early tomorrow to run things.”
“You said that this week - ”
“Your new wife's gonna have to let go of you early for a few days. Family business came up, and I'll be gone a bit. Now go get washed up and to work.”
He nodded and slipped back into the kitchen.
She turned back to me. “There's a tinker in town. Has some interesting wares. We should find him after we stop at the temple.”
“I didn't agree to you coming, yet.”
“Yes you did. Now grab all that bread you left on the floor and bring it with us. We have people to see.”
I nodded. “Fine. But we see the dragon, you head right back home. First sign. I don't want you in danger.”
She nodded her agreement. “That's as far as I can keep you safe. I'll pack after we know this is going to happen.”
“We already – Fine. Let's get going.”
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Dragon Valley: The Swordsmith
Author's note: I am trying a little experiment. A short story consisting of several blog posts. I am hoping each blog post will stand on its own as part of the story, and that they'll add up to a greater story when told together. This is Dragon Valley, Part 1: The Swordsmith. See the second installment here.
---
I stepped into my cousin's forge, dragging the heavy bag behind me. He was standing by a small barrel of nails, counting them and moving them to another barrel. He turned his head, and dropped the nails he was holding back into the first barrel.
“Zed!” he cried. I approached him and grasped his hand. He was a few inches shorter than me, but his shoulders were broad and muscular.
“Newl! How's business?” I asked. He looked down and shook his head.
“Still makin enough to support meself, but not enough to support a wife.”
“Maybe you should find a rich woman to marry, then.”
“Perhaps I should, at that. What's in the bag?”
I lifted the bag with a grunt and set it on a table. “I need a sword. I've got iron to trade.”
He came over and opened the bag, examining the tools and fixtures I'd brought in. I touched a box I'd brought in my coat, hoping I wouldn't need it.
“The time and efforta the swordcraft is worth more than this iron.”
I sighed and brought out the box. I opened it, revealing a selection of silverware.
“Grandma's silver.”
“So, your pa leave it with ya.”
“To me, and we can fight about that later. The sword?”
“It's been so long since someone asked fer one, I figured I was wastin my time keeping up with swordmaking.”
He limped over to a cabinet, unlocked it, and opened it up. There were a dozen swords, each a different style, all beautiful. They reflected the light brightly; these swords were cared for. I took a deep breath and walked to them. Newl and I practiced with some old swords, just for some healthy exercise and competition, but this was the first time I'd seen all the swords he made.
There was a long blade with a faint blue shine to the metal. There was a dark one, shorter and broader than the others, with a black blade. That one looked quite powerful. Another had a white blade with a slight curve. That one looked to be designed to hit with one side only. The others were very similar to each other; iron swords, gleaming brightly, variations on a theme.
“A fine selection for someone with no customers.”
“A hobby, to honor my trainin. I thought I'd make a killin here, surrounded by monsters as this valley is. I didn't expect the quiet, or that nobody'd fight.”
“You keep them well polished.”
“Yes, well, a man with no mate has a lot of time to polish swords. What makes you want one beyond your rust stick, anyway? Not that I mind, just curious.”
“The dragon's eaten my flock, down to the last sheep. I'm going to stop it.”
He took a step back. “What, you got the whole peaceful valley to fight by yer side? Or have ya been messin with dark forces, or convinced the gods to fight with ya? Surely, you'll not try on your own. You'll not be that crazy.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Newl, I know you couldn't understand, but those sheep were to feed my children, and my wife. I have nothing now; they're going to starve.”
Newl pushed me aside and shut the cabinet. My chest tightened. I was breathing heavy. "I'll be havin no parta your suicidal plot." He drew a key out and locked the cabinet. “You think, because I havena children meself, I couldna understand ya lovin yers?"
His northern accent always got thicker when he was upset. He hustled away from the cabinet and back to the nails. He began counting again.
“If I don't kill the dragon, it will be back. A monster that size can't be satisfied with one flock. It will eat every sheep in the valley. Even if it never touches a human, this valley will die! Sunlight only knows why it isn't eating people!”
I waited a moment, my breath trapped inside me, while he counted his nails.
“What'll revenge get ya?” he asked.
“It's not revenge. Or not only. Dragons have treasure; they love gold and magic. I could use that to buy a new flock and rebuild my neighbors' damaged flocks.”
I slowly let out my breath and drew another. He remained quiet and thoughtful. I gritted my teeth and spoke with all my determination.
“I'll fight with a pitchfork, if I have to.”
He sighed and hung his his head. He put a set of counted nails into the second barrel and marked it with a piece of charcoal. “Try findin someone to help ya fight, ye moon-adled fool. Not me, this leg'll slow you down. And not Lord Maley; ya know he gets funny when people talk monster fightin.”
I smiled. He went back to the swords and opened them up. I picked each up to test their weight and balance.
“If it weren't for me leg, I'd be beatin you at every swordplay.”
“I was winning them before your injury, little cousin.”
“Keepa tellin yourself that, little man."
I most liked the blue sword and held it up. He looked and laughed. “The one sword I didna make. The one my master challenged me to match.”
“He made it?”
“Na, some other crafter, long ago. Crafter's name's been long lost.”
“Not available, then?”
He scratched his beard, thinking. “Here's what I'll do. That's the best sword in there, and you need whatever edge you can git, if you'll pardon the pun. Consider this my contribution to the fight; you use that sword to slay the dragon and share the treasure with me. But give me share fair, or I'll take the sword back and replace it with another.”
I nodded and smiled. “Little cousin, you have yourself a deal.”
---
I stepped into my cousin's forge, dragging the heavy bag behind me. He was standing by a small barrel of nails, counting them and moving them to another barrel. He turned his head, and dropped the nails he was holding back into the first barrel.
“Zed!” he cried. I approached him and grasped his hand. He was a few inches shorter than me, but his shoulders were broad and muscular.
“Newl! How's business?” I asked. He looked down and shook his head.
“Still makin enough to support meself, but not enough to support a wife.”
“Maybe you should find a rich woman to marry, then.”
“Perhaps I should, at that. What's in the bag?”
I lifted the bag with a grunt and set it on a table. “I need a sword. I've got iron to trade.”
He came over and opened the bag, examining the tools and fixtures I'd brought in. I touched a box I'd brought in my coat, hoping I wouldn't need it.
“The time and efforta the swordcraft is worth more than this iron.”
I sighed and brought out the box. I opened it, revealing a selection of silverware.
“Grandma's silver.”
“So, your pa leave it with ya.”
“To me, and we can fight about that later. The sword?”
“It's been so long since someone asked fer one, I figured I was wastin my time keeping up with swordmaking.”
He limped over to a cabinet, unlocked it, and opened it up. There were a dozen swords, each a different style, all beautiful. They reflected the light brightly; these swords were cared for. I took a deep breath and walked to them. Newl and I practiced with some old swords, just for some healthy exercise and competition, but this was the first time I'd seen all the swords he made.
There was a long blade with a faint blue shine to the metal. There was a dark one, shorter and broader than the others, with a black blade. That one looked quite powerful. Another had a white blade with a slight curve. That one looked to be designed to hit with one side only. The others were very similar to each other; iron swords, gleaming brightly, variations on a theme.
“A fine selection for someone with no customers.”
“A hobby, to honor my trainin. I thought I'd make a killin here, surrounded by monsters as this valley is. I didn't expect the quiet, or that nobody'd fight.”
“You keep them well polished.”
“Yes, well, a man with no mate has a lot of time to polish swords. What makes you want one beyond your rust stick, anyway? Not that I mind, just curious.”
“The dragon's eaten my flock, down to the last sheep. I'm going to stop it.”
He took a step back. “What, you got the whole peaceful valley to fight by yer side? Or have ya been messin with dark forces, or convinced the gods to fight with ya? Surely, you'll not try on your own. You'll not be that crazy.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Newl, I know you couldn't understand, but those sheep were to feed my children, and my wife. I have nothing now; they're going to starve.”
Newl pushed me aside and shut the cabinet. My chest tightened. I was breathing heavy. "I'll be havin no parta your suicidal plot." He drew a key out and locked the cabinet. “You think, because I havena children meself, I couldna understand ya lovin yers?"
His northern accent always got thicker when he was upset. He hustled away from the cabinet and back to the nails. He began counting again.
“If I don't kill the dragon, it will be back. A monster that size can't be satisfied with one flock. It will eat every sheep in the valley. Even if it never touches a human, this valley will die! Sunlight only knows why it isn't eating people!”
I waited a moment, my breath trapped inside me, while he counted his nails.
“What'll revenge get ya?” he asked.
“It's not revenge. Or not only. Dragons have treasure; they love gold and magic. I could use that to buy a new flock and rebuild my neighbors' damaged flocks.”
I slowly let out my breath and drew another. He remained quiet and thoughtful. I gritted my teeth and spoke with all my determination.
“I'll fight with a pitchfork, if I have to.”
He sighed and hung his his head. He put a set of counted nails into the second barrel and marked it with a piece of charcoal. “Try findin someone to help ya fight, ye moon-adled fool. Not me, this leg'll slow you down. And not Lord Maley; ya know he gets funny when people talk monster fightin.”
I smiled. He went back to the swords and opened them up. I picked each up to test their weight and balance.
“If it weren't for me leg, I'd be beatin you at every swordplay.”
“I was winning them before your injury, little cousin.”
“Keepa tellin yourself that, little man."
I most liked the blue sword and held it up. He looked and laughed. “The one sword I didna make. The one my master challenged me to match.”
“He made it?”
“Na, some other crafter, long ago. Crafter's name's been long lost.”
“Not available, then?”
He scratched his beard, thinking. “Here's what I'll do. That's the best sword in there, and you need whatever edge you can git, if you'll pardon the pun. Consider this my contribution to the fight; you use that sword to slay the dragon and share the treasure with me. But give me share fair, or I'll take the sword back and replace it with another.”
I nodded and smiled. “Little cousin, you have yourself a deal.”
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