Archive for March, 2005

Sticks > Games

I have not gotten around to posting too much as my current workload plus the still fresh joys of homeownership have been sucking me dry. Heck, I’ve been neglecting friends, family, and even myself (I still bath and change my clothes!) trying to keep up with the change of pace; shifting priorities is what I have been told.

So what are these shifting priorities? Well as best as I can tell most of it centers on less time for the things I like to do and more time on, well honestly I don’t know. Seems as if the move from an apartment to a house reflects a massive paradigm shift. In the apartment I had huge blocks of leisure time, time that could be spent reading, playing video games, twiddling on computers, or on any number of things. Now, it feels almost like there is no leisure time. I’ve cut back on my reading, playing video games is almost unheard of, and twiddling on computers has been scaled back to just playing on my laptop [admission:the migration to Linux did suck up a huge block of time initially but currently it occupies less time than my former life on Windows].

Well, there are 24 hours in a day what is it getting spent on? the easy answers are six for sleep and nine for work leaving to account for another nine hours. As best as I can tell those nine hours are chewed up by general errand running, the homeownership appears to necessitate a myriad of little trips to fetch things, and maintenance. For example, last weekend I spent nearly two hours walking around the yard picking up sticks. Seriously, stick picking up. I picked up twigs and branches and made a big pile of them, almost a nest but less practical. This weekend I plan expanding my activities vertically by climbing onto the roof to fetch more rogue wood. After that I get to think about raking but first a need a rake. Guess what that means? Yup, another little trip to go look at rakes.

I cannot wait to see the paradigm shift parenthood is going to bring with it.

Diapers > Sticks > Games.

Not Enough Oxygen?

There are times on the job where it seems the people that I work for–read develop–appear to be listless and starved for oxygen. Is the air circulation that bad in the building? Am I speaking another language? How many times do I need to make the case that 85% of the requests are illogical and break all sorts of rules of normalization and proper coding procedures.

Session One, Part Two

The second day was a beautiful and clear day, the air was crisp and light as the adventurers continued north to the homesteads. Bongles was in rare form as his comedic routine swelled into a performance that is the making of legends. However, it is quite possible that the dour halfling, Silus, while amused found more entertainment in offering Kudos in the form of well shot stones. Beyond those antics the journey to the homestead passed without event.

The homestead is nestled in a shallow bowl and is made up of a few small out buildings, a barn, and a main house; small white tendrils of smoke belied its position just beyond the rise. As the party arrived on the crest of the hill they looked down on a tense scene: three mounted riders surrounding a cluster of standing and kneeling individuals. Beyond on the other side of the main house were a group of cowering individuals resembling a family. As soon as the party was in site the three riders turned started riding out to meet them and it was clear from their manner in the saddle that the riders were both highly competent and very professional.

The riders were dressed in crisp uniforms and carried the banner of of a fist rising out of a mountain top. What players expected to meet were emissaries of the kingdom, instead they were intercepted and escorted back by orcs. Grim’s uncle was a member of the same cavalry unit, 2nd Brigade “Heaven’s Fist”, and this provided his some leverage in explaining the party’s motivation and intention for being at the homestead. The remaining members of the party still grappled with the reality that the orcs of the high plains carried themselves in a professional and respectful manner, quite a contrast to the garrison and Captain Sandoval himself.

Lt. Nazrhul was leading this contingent of the 2nd Brigade on patrol when they came upon a group of Ghost Monkeys preparing to raid the homestead. His unit fell upon them swiftly before any injury could come to the settlers. The settlers were grateful but confused as the actions of Lt. Nazrhul and his men are opposite of what they were taught to believe about the orcs of the High Plains. The demeanor and professionalism also left the party at a loss of words with only Bongles and Grim fully understanding that the beliefs and views of the Kingdom were wrong.

Interrogation of the surviving Ghost Monkeys, prior to the arrival of the party, lead the the clue of Rakengaard as having some bearing on the recent attacks on both sides of the border. After a night’s rest and armed with this information the party struck out for the former dwarven stronghold.

Session One, Part One

Thrown Together: The First Day
Our intrepid adventurers assembled quickly at the garrison of Duvik’s Pass, some still rubbing sleep from their eyes others brushing the dust off their clothing after a hard nights ride. The four were complete strangers however, Bongles the bard, who never misses an chance to entertain, attempted to remedy that situation the moment he strolled through the door. The remaining individuals appeared to eye the meeting with an understandable level of distrust.

Grim, a half-orc barbarian, was their at the behest of his human aunt and uncle, Ethany and Silus. Ethany met him at the garrison and they had a brief but strangely warm moment; maybe it is possible that blood ties can remain strong even through great adversity and strain. Silus, a wily and quiet halfling, arrived on the tip of the local innkeeper, Andrew “Fleece” Carlson and seemed intent on being inconspicuous and riding out as soon as possible. Kasumi, who received orders to ride north to the frontier and report to the garrison for further orders, seemed to feel the most out of place. Her work for the kingdom as an investigator has largely kept her in the major cities and towns and the sudden orders to the frontier; the mountains, cold, and wilderness are not counted among some of her favorite things.

Captain Sandoval, head of the garrison and the point of contact for Kasumi, by appearance is a slovenly and undisciplined man. His troops, either drunk or asleep, were dressed in stained and tattered uniforms. It is clear that these soldiers might only be capable of defending their ale but not the garrison and certainly not the frontier. Sandoval, gruffly and vaguely, issued his orders for the party: investigate the attacks on the homesteads and if possible solve the problem. His take on the situation is that the orcs of the High Plains are responsible and he made his prejudices quiet clear with the barbed observations that “orcs are orcs,” leveling it at Grim. Bongles, seeking both edification and entertainment, proved himself to be quite noisome to Sandoval however it is possible that the feeling was reciprocal. Sandoval, absentmindedly, also requested that the party transport supplies to the homestead on three mules. The party gathered under the lead of Kasumi with Grim to guide them through the mountains and headed north to the frontier.

Duvik\'s Pass

The first days journey went with little excitement beyond the antics of Bongles and the sudden squall that swept into the pass. The party reached the way station and halfway point of their journey under the capable survival skills of Grim and made camp for the night in a crude but sheltering lean-to. The party decided, after some debate, to split into three watches with Kasumi on the first, Silus and Bongles on the second, and Grim rounding off the third. It was not until the middle of the second watch that something seemed amiss. Silus’ sharp hearing caught the sound of someone or thing moving about in the diminishing storm; his suspicions were confirmed when he sighted a shadowy figure lurking near the mules. With uncanny aim and ferocity, Silus let loose a stone from his sling and soundly struck the interloper. The action awakens both Grim and Kasumi who both spring to their feet with Grim heading straight towards the scuffle and Kasumi judiciously slipping around the other side to intercept any other possible foes. Bongles, who Silus let sleep in during his turn at watch, continued to slumber wrapped tightly in warm dreams of his sylvan friends.

Grim swiftly made his way round the mules to the person or thing that Silus had struck to find the member of a goblin raiding party. With a mighty swing of his sword he cleaved the injured goblin in two and carried his stroke deep into the bugbear leader standing nearby disemboweling him before he could react. The raid at this point fell apart with one goblin turning to flee only to have one of Kasumi thrust one of her arrows deep in his neck as he ran by. The other in his confusion ran up to the mules and his fallen comrades only to be struck by a volley of stones from Silus’ sling; blinking back the blood from his eyes he swung wildly at Grim connecting only slightly. He was met by the terrifying visage of an angry half-orc barbarian bearing down upon him who forcefully pushed him to the ground.

Bongles finally made his way out the confines of sleep and waded out into the gnome chest deep snow and promptly hopped up upon his mount, Wondermint, and inspired a great deal of courage amongst his fellow adventurers with a scathingly line of comedy and parody at the expense of the routed goblins. However, it seemed that as soon as Bongles’ routine warmed up the fighting was over. The goblin wounded by Kasumi was followed and swiftly dispatched by Grim leaving one for the party to interrogate. The questioning was brief as it was clear that the survivor had little to tell other than he was a common foot solider pressed into service and eager to find another line of work if he lived to see morning. The party did learn that he served for a group known only as Ghost Monkeys and that they ride under the insignia of a froth mouthed simian, something that gave great delight to Bongles as he mercilessly mocked the cowering captive and casted Tasha’s Hideous Laughter upon him causing him to convulse in involuntarily waves of giggles made only worse by the the rope about his wrists and ankles, deftly tied by Kasumi. Grim took pity on the captive and with great generosity and compassion gave him several days of rations and sent him on his way with a stiff warning to never return and with that the party spent the remaining night resting as best as they could.

[Note: Image from Ratqueen]

Old School

Been dreaming about old school dungeon crawls, the ones populated with Black Puddings, Gelatinous Cubes, Monstrous Centipedes, and Carrion Crawlers. It started with a phantom smell, one that wafted up from nowhere and pulled my memory along; the smell of a toy Carrion Crawler I once had. It was the smell of rubbery plastic that set it off. I was in the toy store; not one of those big box chain ones but one of those small family run ones stuffed with all sorts of strange and wonderful toys and a sing-song staff. My niece was fiddling with some plastic dinosaurs–multi-colored and rich with detail–when the smell swept me up and filled my mind with visions of the past.

carrion_crawler

Insignias

Heaven

2nd Brigade - “Heaven’s Fist”

Ghost Monkeys

Mountain Boyz - “Ghost Monkeys”





Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 United States
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 United States